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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24361945">Snowdrop</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/andabatae/pseuds/andabatae'>andabatae</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Blow Jobs, But not quite, Cunnilingus, Drug trafficking, F/M, Guns, Hate to Love, Lack of Communication, Mechanic Rey, Mention of cancer, Mention of childhood sexual abuse, Not-So-Dry-Humping, Pole Dancing, Praise Kink, Rich Bitch Ben Solo, Sexual Harassment, Slow Burn, Smut, Trauma, Vaginal Sex, Waitress Rey (Star Wars), eat the rich, except don't eat Ben he's okay, mention of childhood trauma, okay fine eat Ben responsibly and consensually, sugar Daddy vibes, tragic backstories galore, ultimately soft, wealth inequality</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:28:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>41,275</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24361945</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/andabatae/pseuds/andabatae</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rey has been fighting for survival for as long as she can remember. She finally has her own apartment, but between rent and bills, she's barely staying afloat. Without her job as a waitress at a high-end restaurant, she'd wind up on the street.</p><p>Then, one fateful evening, she spills a glass of wine on rich customer Ben Solo.</p><p>And her entire life changes.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>801</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2249</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
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</div><p> </p><p>Rey swayed on her feet. She braced herself against the counter and took a deep breath, trying to still the trembling in her knees.</p><p>First Order’s head chef, Poe Dameron, eyed her with concern, somehow managing to continue preparing multiple dishes without looking at what he was doing. “Are you okay?”</p><p>Rey forced a smile. “Just tired,” she said, standing back upright. “Didn’t sleep much last night.”</p><p>She didn’t sleep much most nights, truth be told. The tips she earned as a waitress, plus what Plutt paid her under the table at the garage, were just enough to cover a studio apartment in the worst part of town. Too often, she was kept up by sirens or the neighbors’ screaming matches. Her heater was broken, leaving her shivering on her mattress on the floor, and her ceiling dripped on rainy nights.</p><p>At least she had a roof over her head. That’s what she told herself in the wee hours of the morning, anyway, while covering her ears with a pillow to muffle the yelling. Anything was better than being on the streets.</p><p>“Is table twelve ready?” she asked, grabbing her tray in preparation.</p><p>“Just finished. Have at it.” Poe jerked his head over his shoulder towards Finn, who was placing a sprig of parsley on a perfectly cooked salmon fillet. Butter-drenched asparagus and a dollop of mashed potatoes completed the meal. It was one of the main course options from the prix fixe menu<span class="st">—</span>there was still dessert to come for whichever lucky bastard was about to reap the rewards of Poe's effort.</p><p>Rey’s stomach grumbled at the delicious scent. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday. Rent was due, and she’d had to take her junker of a car into the shop for repairs last week. She’d done most of the work herself, but Plutt had still charged her for parts. Transportation to get between her jobs was more important than food, though. Better to starve one day than lose one of her jobs and end up homeless.</p><p>She placed the salmon on the tray, along with a side plate of extra asparagus. “Who orders extra asparagus, anyway?” she muttered as she left the kitchen. Some rich asshole, undoubtedly. Rich assholes were the preferred clientele of First Order, a high class establishment on the 71st floor of a skyscraper downtown.</p><p>She kept her eyes off the dizzying view as she wove her way between tables. Rey wasn’t wild about heights, although she could understand why other people might be. The city spread out below like a tapestry, the rich colors of sunset bouncing off glass and steel, the pinpricks of brake lights weaving through the streets like crimson embroidery. From up here, it was beautiful.</p><p>The high-gloss patrons of First Order would never see the city Rey knew, the one covered in grime and filled with suffering. No, their customers would drop $400 or more on a single meal, look at the gleaming lights below, and congratulate themselves for sitting so high above everyone else.</p><p>Table twelve commanded a view of the western edge of the city and the distant gleam of the sea. A man in a black suit sat there, head turned to stare out the window. Solo diners were unusual. If they weren’t married, most rich men bought company for the night.</p><p>Rey forced a cheery smile as she approached. “Good evening, sir!” she chirped. “Here’s your salmon.”</p><p>His head whipped around, and he frowned at her. Goodness, he was an intimidating sight<span class="st">—</span>long face, bold nose, smoldering brown eyes. He had dark, wavy, silky-looking hair that brushed the top of his collar, and Rey’s jealous heart longed to know what conditioner he used. “You’re not my waitress,” he said in a low, resonant voice.</p><p>Why did he care? As far as rich assholes like him were concerned, the “help” were interchangeable. “Rose was called away,” she said as she set down the salmon in front of him. God, it smelled amazing. “I’m Rey, and I’ll be your server for the rest of the evening.”</p><p>“Seems unprofessional,” the man mused, eyeing her with clear distaste. “Leaving in the middle of a shift.”</p><p>Her facial muscles were stiff as she attempted to keep smiling. “A family emergency, as I understand. I apologize for the inconvenience.” Rose’s sister, Paige, was seriously ill, and Rose’s abrupt departures were becoming more and more frequent. Rey was happy to cover for her, and it wasn’t just for the extra tips. It was the right thing to do<span class="st">—</span>not that this asshole would understand anything about that.</p><p>“Hm.” He snapped open his napkin and settled it in his lap. “Another glass of wine.”</p><p>Apparently that was his idea of a request, despite the lack of any upward inflection or the word “please.” Rey placed the extra asparagus on his table with more force than necessary, taking satisfaction from the sharp sound of the plate striking wood. “Of course,” she said. “I’ll be back in a moment, sir.”</p><p>Her shoulders were stiff as she marched over to the bar. “What’s the jerk at table twelve having?” she asked Kaydel as the petite blonde poured some exotic concoction into a tumbler.</p><p>“2005 Chandrila Cabernet,” Kay recited without a pause. “Priciest wine on the menu.”</p><p>Rey rolled her eyes. “Of course. Well, he wants another one.”</p><p>“Sure thing.” Kaydel grabbed the bottle off the top shelf, then poured it into a glass. “This one glass is worth more than my base pay for the night, you know.”</p><p>Rey huffed. “Someone should tell these fuckers about Two-Buck Chuck.” She grabbed the glass, then smiled at Kay. “Thanks.”</p><p>Kay waved her off. “Hey, I get the easy job. You’re the one who actually has to talk to the fuckers.”</p><p>Rey took the glass back to table twelve. She raised it to the light as she walked, admiring the subtle glow of sunset shining through the dark wine. It was pretty, sure, but could it possibly taste good enough to merit the outrageous price? Unlikely. She suspected the rich didn't actually care how anything tasted; all that mattered was how important they felt while ordering it.</p><p>“Here you are,” Rey said as she approached the table.</p><p>The man looked up from his salmon. Rey locked eyes with him, and for some reason, his intense stare made her feel dizzy.</p><p>It wasn’t the look, she realized as she swayed on her feet, barely managing to avoid sloshing the wine. Black spots swam in her vision, and she blinked frantically, trying to clear it. The lack of food and sleep was catching up with her.</p><p>“Is something wrong?” the man asked.</p><p>“S-sorry,” Rey stammered, rushing to place the wine down on the table. She misjudged the distance, though, and ended up placing the glass half-on, half-off the table. It toppled over, splashing expensive wine all over the rich asshole’s expensive suit.</p><p>“Jesus Christ!” He jumped to his feet, scrubbing at the stain with his napkin. “What the fuck?”</p><p>“I’m so sorry!” Rey reached for the napkin, trying to take it from him, as if cleaning him up herself would diminish the shitstorm about to envelop her. “Sorry, sorry<span class="st">—</span>” She patted at him with trembling hands, succeeding only in getting her hands wet, too. The wine looked like blood against her skin.</p><p>“What’s going on?”</p><p>The sharp voice came from behind her, and Rey’s heart sank. It was Mr. Pryde, the owner of First Order. He liked to keep a close eye on the floor, and her mistake had not gone unnoticed.</p><p>The man she’d drenched scoffed. “Your waitress here poured wine all over me.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Rey said, wringing her hands and looking at Mr. Pryde pleadingly. “I didn’t eat today<span class="st">—</span>or yesterday, really<span class="st">—</span>and I was just a little faint, and it’ll never happen again<span class="st">—</span>”</p><p>“I don’t want excuses,” Mr. Pryde snapped. His stare was flinty, his jaw tense. “Mr. Solo, I’m profoundly sorry for the inconvenience. Your meal will, of course, be comped.” His eyes narrowed as he glared at Rey. “As for you… you’re fired.”</p><p>“No!” Rey cried out at the same time the rich asshole<span class="st">—</span><em>Mr. Solo<span class="st">—</span></em>said, “Wait<span class="st">—</span>”</p><p>“Get out,” Mr. Pryde said, pointing at the door. “And don’t expect a reference.”</p><p>Tears rolled down Rey’s cheeks. She shuddered, trying to bite back a sob. “Please, I need this job<span class="st">—</span>”</p><p>“And I need competent waitstaff,” Mr. Pryde snapped. “Now go. Don’t make me call security.”</p><p>Rey wiped her eyes, then looked at Mr. Solo, who was staring at her with wide eyes. “I hope the wine was worth the cost,” she said through a thick throat. “Enjoy your meal.”</p><p>She walked away on shaky legs, trying to ignore the stares and whispers of the other patrons. Who cared if they gawked? She was nothing but an amusement to them: at most, a tale they’d tell their friends over afternoon cocktails, giggling over the time they saw a waitress fired for pouring wine on <em> Mr. Solo. </em>Whoever the fuck he was.</p><p>She felt faint, and not just because of hunger. Rey was now on her own with only days left to pay her rent, and she’d just lost her largest source of income. She took a deep breath as she grabbed her purse from the employee lockers. This was a setback, that was all. She’d find a way to pay rent. If there was anything Rey excelled at, it was surviving under the harshest of circumstances.</p><p>But God, what would it be like to <em> live </em> for once, rather than just surviving?</p><p>As she took the elevator down to the ground floor, her terror and despair settled into a numb sort of hollowness. This was just the way life was. It chewed you up and spat you out, and eventually you lost track of the scars. In the end, Rey would end up the way she’d always been destined to be. Poor. Desperate.</p><p>Alone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The chapter count is a wild guess, as always. Who knows how long this will be??</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
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</div><p>Rey’s phone vibrated late that night. She grabbed it from the floor next to her mattress and answered; it wasn’t like she’d been sleeping, anyway. “Hey, Rose.”</p><p>“What happened, babe?” Her friend’s voice was full of concern. “Finn said you were fired?”</p><p>Tears welled in Rey’s eyes for the umpteenth time. She put Rose on speaker, then pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, trying to stem the moisture. “Yeah. I got faint and accidentally spilled wine on a customer. Some rich douchebag.”</p><p>“That fucking sucks. Pryde can’t sack you for that!”</p><p>“Pryde can sack me for whatever reason he wants,” Rey said. “That suit I ruined is probably worth more than my entire miserable life.”</p><p>“Don’t say that,” Rose snapped. “Your life is priceless. Just because assholes like Pryde treat it cheaply doesn’t mean you get to.”</p><p>“Sorry,” Rey mumbled, feeling a rush of guilt. Rose was sensitive about things like this because of her sister. “I’m being a dick.” </p><p>Rose sighed. “No, you’re not. You’re upset, and understandably so.”</p><p>“How’s Paige?” Rey asked.</p><p>“I don’t want to talk about it.”</p><p>“Fair.”</p><p>There was a long pause before Rose spoke again. “So what are you going to do now?”</p><p>Rey sniffled in the darkness. “I don’t know. I have work with Plutt still, but that’s not enough for rent.”</p><p>“I wish I could help you.”</p><p>“I know.” Rey wiped her eyes. Every cent Rose earned went to her sister’s medical care; Rey would never expect to take anything from her. “But if you know anyone who’s hiring...”</p><p>Rose sighed again, a heavy, sad sound. “I might. But it isn’t great. It’s not where you were. Or where you want to be.”</p><p>Rey made a face. “What I want doesn’t matter. All that matters is money.”</p><p>“I’ll send you a phone number.”</p><p>“Thanks, Rose.”</p><p>Rey hung up afterwards. She stared at the ceiling, feeling hollow. Whatever job Rose sent her way wouldn’t be great, but did it matter? Did <em> Rey </em> even matter? Cosmically speaking, she was nothing. A speck of dust in a huge, indifferent universe. She’d live the entirety of her life on this miserable rock, unseen and unnoticed.</p><p>“I wish,” she whispered to the night, but she was unable to complete the thought. There were too many longings that would never be fulfilled. <em> I wish life wasn’t so hard. I wish I mattered. I wish there was a point to any of this. </em></p><p>Speaking a wish out loud didn’t make it come true--Rey had learned that lesson young, while praying beside her sleeping bag in her foster family’s dirty basement, begging her parents to come back.</p><p>She didn’t pray anymore. The only things she had left were grit and determination. Despite everything that had happened to her, Rey felt a burning desire to keep going, no matter the obstacles. Even if she didn’t understand why.</p><p>Even if the horizon was empty.</p><p>#</p><p>“You can’t wear that.”</p><p>Rey looked down at her perfectly serviceable black slacks and black button-up. It was what she’d worn every day while working at First Order. “What?”</p><p>The manager of Midnight Sin, Madame Proxima, eyed Rey with clear contempt. Only five minutes into Rey’s interview, she’d been hired for a shift starting that night… but now her outfit was wrong? “Too conservative,” Proxima said. She reached out and started unbuttoning Rey’s shirt. “You need to show some skin.”</p><p>Rey barely restrained herself from slapping the woman’s hands away. She hated people touching her without permission. “I’m just a bartender,” she said through gritted teeth as Proxima exposed the tops of her breasts and a hint of black bra.</p><p>Proxima tipped her head back and laughed. “Oh, honey. Everyone’s for sale here. And if you aren’t, you’d better look like you are.”</p><p>Five minutes later, Rey was on the floor, gathering glasses from the small tables that surrounded the stage. The room was full of groups of sweaty men in exquisitely tailored suits who talked business while ogling the dancers.</p><p>Midnight Sin was an upscale club, offering discreet escort services to Coruscant’s wealthiest in addition to a nightly strip show. Every employee was thoroughly vetted, then inspected for attractiveness and willingness to please. The only reason Rey had snuck in, with her small breasts and lack of experience in that kind of "service," was because Proxima owed one of Rose’s friends a significant favor. Which meant, in turn, Rose now owed her friend a significant favor. The thought made Rey ill.</p><p>She had to survive, though. <em> Someday, </em> Rey thought, <em> I’ll have money. And then Rose will never have to worry about anything ever again. </em></p><p>Her skin prickled under the weight of numerous stares as she moved around the room. Her tits were modest, but she could<em> feel </em>the men ogling them as she gathered empty glasses.</p><p>“How much?” a man asked, resting his hand on her ass.</p><p>Rey breathed deeply until the urge to punch him faded. She faked a friendly smile. “Fourteen dollars for another old-fashioned,” she said. “If you want company, better check with Madame Proxima.”</p><p>The man’s companions laughed like she’d told a great joke. “Rejected by the bartender!” someone crowed. “A new low for you, Canady.”</p><p>The man scowled at her. “Bring me an old fashioned. And don’t expect a tip.”</p><p>“Of course, sir.”</p><p>Rey headed back to the bar, stewing inside. She was earning ten dollars an hour before tips--Canady’s drink order was already worth more than an hour of her time.</p><p>Sometimes it drove Rey insane, thinking about how this world valued people. Considering his pricey suit and watch, Canady probably had enough money to fund housing for multiple poor families for multiple years without feeling the pinch. And yet he’d begrudged her a few dollars… because she wouldn’t sleep with him.</p><p>Rey forced a smile to her face. Pretty, happy women got more tips. Who cared if those women felt disrespected or used? Who cared if they were afraid, or if they sometimes wondered what the point was of living at all? Time ground on anyway, merciless and unyielding, and rich men always needed drinks and women to hurt, and that was just the way of it.</p><p>As Rey mixed Canady’s old fashioned, she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever be desperate enough to say “Yes” when a man offered to pay for her time. She didn’t begrudge people who chose or were forced into offering sexual services--far from it. Some were willing and eager, and those that weren’t were desperate, and Rey would never judge anyone for either. Still, the thought of doing it herself made her sick.</p><p>“Here’s your old fashioned!” she chirped as she set the glass down before Canady. She winked at him. “And I let Madame Proxima know you might be interested in an… additional menu.”</p><p>The group of men chuckled again. “Tell her me, too!” one of them said. “I want the finest bitch in the house, no matter the cost.”</p><p>“Of course,” Rey said. Her facial muscles were rigid from forcing a smile. “We are delighted to serve.”</p><p>As she left to inform Madame Proxima of the group’s latest order, Rey wondered what the value of a soul was.</p><p>A soul couldn’t pay rent, though. So Rey numbed herself as she talked to Proxima, and she numbed herself as men leered at her tits while she served drinks. Soon, it was like she wasn’t there at all. Her body poured and cleaned, her face laughed and smiled, but her mind was locked up tight and safe.</p><p>And then <em>he</em> walked in.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
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  <em> Mr. Solo. </em>
</p><p>It was the only name she knew him by, and even that was too much knowledge to have about the fucker. He was standing in the entrance, looking uneasy, his eyes skating over the room as if checking for potential danger. He was with friends<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>a tall, redheaded man and an equally tall woman with the icy blonde look of a model. They laughed and chatted, apparently oblivious to Mr. Solo’s discomfort.</p><p>Fuck him.</p><p>Rey hoped he choked on whatever emotion was making him look so unsettled. She wanted him to suffer in any and every way possible. He’d ruined her life, lost her the only job that tipped well enough for her to take a deep breath every once in a while. She could already tell tips were going to be less reliable here, too often tied to whether or not a patron thought she was up for something more than just serving a drink.</p><p>His friends headed into the room, a scantily-clad usher guiding them to an open table near the stage. Mr. Solo followed, his shoulders hunched and hands shoved in his pockets. Rey watched, fascinated and repulsed by him all at once. When a working girl brushed by, trailing her fingers over his suit jacket, he flinched and didn’t meet her eyes.</p><p>So he was uncomfortable being at a strip club. Rey was, too, but at least he’d had the choice not to come here. Rey hadn’t. She was standing there, tits half-out, self-esteem in the gutter, because she’d had no other choice if she wanted to pay rent.</p><p>Someone snapped his fingers. “Girl, I said I want a bottle of champagne.”</p><p>Rey jerked back to attention. An annoyed-looking man in a pinstripe suit was standing in front of the bar. She beamed at him, stiff facial muscles somehow managing the expression. “My apologies, sir. We have several varieties of<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>”</p><p>“The most expensive,” he interrupted. “Put it on my tab. Bring it to the table.” He was gone before Rey could even acknowledge the order.</p><p>Luckily, she remembered this asshole’s last name. Peavey, which was just the sort of stupid name a man like him ought to have. She inputted the order, jabbing the touchscreen harder than necessary, then filled a bucket with ice and plopped a bottle of exorbitantly-priced champagne inside.</p><p>She scanned the floor to see where Peavey was sitting… and her stomach dropped. Mr. Solo was sitting at the next table; she’d have to walk in front of him to get to Peavey’s table. She could try to sneak behind, she supposed, but how could she be sure he wouldn’t see her?</p><p>Strange, to feel so much shame at the thought of having <em> Mr. Solo </em> witness her degradation. He had done this to her, hadn’t he? Him and Pryde. They were the ones who ought to feel ashamed.</p><p>Rey took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. She adjusted her shirt to make sure her tits were still indecently on display. Let him see her like this, then. Let him realize what he’d done.</p><p>Of course, it was far more likely he wouldn’t remember her at all. People like her were invisible.</p><p>She carried the bucket out from behind the bar, weaving between tables and dodging wandering hands. Rather than taking the circuitous route behind Mr. Solo’s table, she decided to walk directly in front of him. He wasn’t looking at the stage, unlike his friends; instead, he fiddled with the slim cocktail menu. She hoped he wouldn’t be the one to order drinks for the table.</p><p>She raised her head high, heart racing as her sensible shoes scuffed over the burgundy carpet. To her left, a girl writhed on the stage under technicolor lights, shaking her ass in the face of the man stuffing bills in her thong. Rey had seen her on the pole earlier; her name was Oola, and she was an incredible dancer. She tossed her bright green hair and winked at Rey, and Rey smiled back.</p><p>This part she could do. The camaraderie between people in the service industry, the late night gossiping, the shared hatred of customers. Every restaurant or bar was a home<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>some more dysfunctional than others<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>and there had been many days during her career when that sense of solidarity had been the only thing keeping Rey upright through the long hours.</p><p>Rey didn’t look to left or right as she passed Mr. Solo’s table. Her hands trembled, so she clutched the ice bucket tighter. Did she hear him suck in a sharp breath? No, that was just her overactive imagination. The music was loud, the din of conversation equally so.</p><p>She plunked the ice bucket down in the middle of Peavey’s table. “Here you go, sir! Let me know if you need anything else.”</p><p>“Oh, I need something else, all right,” one of Peavey’s cronies said with a wink.</p><p>“Enjoy your champagne.” Rey turned to leave before the situation could escalate.</p><p>The man reached out and smacked her ass. She jolted and stumbled, and the table burst into raucous laughter. Her cheeks burned as she hurried away, but she was off-balance, and despite her initial intentions, her gaze strayed to Mr. Solo.</p><p>He was staring directly at her, and he looked furious.</p><p>Her smiling mask slipped. That hot intensity in his eyes burned through her shields, reaching deep into the core of her. For a moment, she looked at him as her real self<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>bitter, angry, despairing. Her eyes started to burn with unshed tears, and she blinked, coming back to herself. She forced a grin and kept moving.</p><p>The redheaded man caught her wrist as she walked by. “Oy,” he said. “I’d like to order some drinks.”</p><p>“Get your hands off her, Hux,” Mr. Solo snapped.</p><p>Every head in the vicinity snapped towards him, Rey’s included. Mr. Solo was glaring daggers at his companion. Why, though?</p><p>Hux released her wrist and held his hands up. “Easy, Solo. Christ, what’s gotten into you?”</p><p>Mr. Solo clenched his jaw, muscles working. “It’s rude to grab at the waitstaff,” he said in that low, resonant voice.</p><p>A shiver raced down Rey’s spine. “Arguably, it’s rude to grab at anyone,” she said before she could think better of it. When Hux looked at her incredulously, she shifted her tone immediately. “But considering where we are, I can assure you it’s very normal.” She winked. “What can I get for you, sir?”</p><p>She tried not to look at Mr. Solo<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span> <em> Solo, </em> shit, why was she referring to him so formally, like he was her boss or something?<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>as she took Hux’s order. She could feel his gaze burning into her, though.</p><p>“I’ll be back with that shortly,” Rey said. She exhaled a shaky breath as she walked away.</p><p>She could hear them talking behind her: “Jesus, Solo, you look like you want to gut me” from Hux and “I don’t think he likes strip clubs” in an amused tone from the blonde.</p><p>Rey made the drinks quickly, trying to guess which one was for which person. After enough years in service, you got an uncanny sense for what people would order. The gin gimlet seemed like Hux’s drink, while she was positive the vodka martini, extra dry, was the blonde’s. The old fashioned had to be Solo’s. He gave off a whiskey vibe, as so many pretentious douchebags did.</p><p>She briefly considered putting something horrible in his drink, but that would be a quick way to lose her job, and besides… his weird defense of her had set her off-kilter. Why had he told Hux to stop touching her?</p><p>“Hey.”</p><p>Rey jumped at the sudden voice. Shit, she needed to stop zoning out. She looked up and started her normal spiel. “Sorry, sir, how can I…”</p><p>She trailed off at the sight of Solo standing at the bar, hands braced against the wood. Wow, he was huge<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>she hadn’t quite realized it before. His shoulders blotted out most of the room, and his hands took up a shocking amount of space on the bartop. She stared at him, mouth and mind completely frozen. “You,” she finally managed to say.</p><p>His mouth twisted. “So you remember me.”</p><p>It was too absurd. She huffed a disbelieving laugh. “You really think I’d forget the face of the asshole who got me fired?”</p><p>Saying something like that could get her fired here, too, but Rey wasn’t operating from a place of logic right now. Her skin felt icy cold and burning hot in waves, her brain pumping her full of fight or flight chemicals.</p><p>He winced. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>She blinked at him, taken aback. That wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. “You are?”</p><p>He tugged at his tie. “What happened was… unfortunate. I shouldn’t have complained about the wine.”</p><p><em>“Unfortunate?”</em> Rey’s eyebrows nearly met her hairline. “That’s one way to put destroying someone’s livelihood.”</p><p>His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “You shouldn’t have been fired.”</p><p>“And yet I was.”</p><p>He leaned in, and that burning look was back in his eyes. It scared Rey a little, even as it sent a thrill through her. Men just weren’t built like this, big and raw and intense. He looked capable of tearing the entire building down with his bare hands. “What are you doing here?” he asked in a low, growling voice.</p><p>She gaped at him. “Seriously? I got fired from my main source of income a week before rent is due, and you’re wondering what I’m doing here?”</p><p>He ran a hand through his thick, wavy black hair. “You’re too good for this place,” he muttered.</p><p>The words rankled. “Oh, and everyone else here isn’t?” she demanded. “Other women deserve to be groped and harassed, but because you feel a little guilty about ruining my life, you’re convinced I’m somehow better than this?”</p><p>“That’s not it<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>”</p><p>“Then what the fuck are you trying to say? Because excuse me if I’m wrong, but it sounds like you’re only upset I’m working here because you played an active role in getting me fired.”</p><p>“I complained to Pryde afterwards,” he said. “About firing you.”</p><p>“I’m sure you were very noble.” Bitterness filled Rey’s chest and throat. “So why are you talking to me now? Eager to get me fired from this job, too?”</p><p>“That’s not<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>”</p><p>“Everything all right?” Madame Proxima appeared out of nowhere, hands planted on her sequined hips. She glared at Rey, then switched her attention to Solo. “Is she bothering you, sir?”</p><p>“What?” Solo blanched: an impressive feat, considering how pale he already was. “No, absolutely not. I was just telling her... what a good bartender she is.”</p><p>Rey winced at the unconvincing lie.</p><p>“Hmm.” Proxima narrowed her eyes. “It looked like she was arguing with you, sir, and we don’t allow that sort of interaction here, so I want to be clear about what just happened.”</p><p>“I was just<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>” Rey said, but Solo talked over her.</p><p>“We had a lively debate about whiskey,” he said, grabbing his old fashioned, then taking an enormous gulp from it. “Mmm, yes,” he said, smacking his lips in an over-exaggerated way. “I believe she’s right. Using rye really does improve the flavor.”</p><p>That was a big fucking lie, not least of which was because Rey had used bourbon. She bit her cheek, struggling to refrain from saying anything. She was so pissed right now, she’d probably earn herself a one-way ticket to the streets.</p><p>“If you say so, sir,” Proxima said. She gave Rey a look that required no interpretation; it was a warning, plain and simple. “I’m glad to hear this was a harmless disagreement. But I would encourage my waitstaff to avoid such disagreements in the future.”</p><p>“Of course,” Rey gritted out, bowing her head to hide her mutinous expression. “I would never dream of offending a patron.”</p><p>“Good.” With a final huff, Proxima stalked away.</p><p>Silence fell after her departure. Rey stared at her hands where they clutched the edge of the bar. Her nails were short, the cuticles ragged.</p><p>One of Solo’s hands still rested on the bartop near her. She compared their fingers<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>hers calloused and scarred from years of manual labor, his long, smooth, and elegant. His privilege was written all over him, from the pale shade of his skin to the neatness of his nails.</p><p>“I want to help you,” he said softly.</p><p>Rey stiffened. She knew what kind of ‘help’ men like this usually offered. “No, thank you,” she said, lifting her head to stare him in the eye. At least he had the grace to look ashamed. “I don’t need more obligations in my life.”</p><p>“It wouldn’t be an obligation,” he said. “Just me… helping you out. With money or whatever else you need.”</p><p>He looked earnest, but Rey knew better. “There are always strings, Solo,” she said tiredly. “You know that, and I know that. Nothing comes for free.”</p><p>“Ben,” he said.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“My name is Ben.” He cleared his throat. “And I swear, this wouldn’t come with any strings.”</p><p>Bullshit. “Even if that’s true, which it definitely isn’t, do you think I want your charity?” Rey lifted her chin, armoring herself in the prickly pride that was one of her last remaining possessions. “I’ve made my own way all these years. I don’t want anything from you.”</p><p>Ben made a frustrated noise and tugged at his hair. “You’re are the most impossible<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>”</p><p>“Solo.” A hand landed on Ben’s shoulder. The redhead<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>Hux<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>had come up behind them. “It can’t take that fucking long to grab our drinks. What’s going on?” He eyed Rey with a look of cold condescension.</p><p>Rey’s mouth jerked up into the fake smile that had become her most useful disguise over the years. Smile sweetly, and maybe the snakes won’t see how much you hate them. “My apologies, sir,” she said, sliding the drinks towards him. “We were caught up discussing the merits of rye versus bourbon in whiskey cocktails.”</p><p>Hux, luckily, seemed to buy the lie. He rolled his eyes. “Only you, Solo,” he said, grabbing the gimlet and the martini, “would avoid looking at strippers in order to have some pedantic conversation about whiskey.”</p><p>“I told you I didn’t want to come,” Ben said sullenly.</p><p>“And I told you you had to, so you came, so now you can act like a normal fucking human being and hang out with me and Gwen, hm?” He jerked his head back in the direction of their table. “It’s not like bartenders actually want to talk to you. They’re just in it for the money.”</p><p>Ben flinched. Rey just looked at him with a cocked eyebrow, arms crossed. Of course she was in it for the money; only someone who had never had to worry about money would expect otherwise.</p><p>His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Well. I’ll just… be going.”</p><p>“You do that,” Rey said, tone full of sweet poison. “As always, I’m here to serve your needs.”</p><p>He ducked his head and left with Hux. Rey savored the sting of righteous anger in her chest, but her stomach twisted with nausea. A man like that could crush her entire life with one snap of his fingers. Antagonizing him had felt good, but nothing good ever came of pissing off the rich.</p><p>“Three more hours,” she whispered to herself. Just three more hours, and her first shift would be done. There would be more after that, assuming Ben Solo didn’t get her fired, but what was the point in focusing on that? When you had no future, you could only endure life moment by moment.</p><p>Those three hours passed in a blur of pouring and smiling and ringing up exorbitant purchases. Rey didn’t look at Ben again, although she suspected he was looking at her. Her skin had that crawling feeling. Eventually, blessedly, she caught a glimpse of him leaving with his friends, and she exhaled in relief, a weight lifting off her shoulders.</p><p>By the end of her shift, Rey’s feet ached, but she had enough tips stuffed in her pockets to buy groceries tomorrow, and that was all she needed. She’d also gotten the names and numbers of several of her coworkers, and she smiled and waved at Oola, Rystáll, and Freya as she left. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, after all… so long as she could ignore the verbal harassment and groping.</p><p>As she headed to her car in the darkened parking lot, Rey shivered. She still felt the prickle of invisible eyes on her, but when she looked around, there was no one in sight, just a few dark, empty cars.</p><p>Oh, well. She sighed once she was behind the wheel, doors safely locked. She was just exhausted and imagining things. Her work at Plutt’s started in six hours<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>her hours at Midnight Sin were later than her hours at First Order had been<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>which meant she needed to forget her tired paranoia, forget Ben Solo, and focus only on the immediate needs of the moment.</p><p>But as she pulled out of the parking lot, she remembered Ben Solo’s fiery gaze and low, compelling voice. <em> “I want to help you.” </em></p><p>Rey snorted. No one had ever wanted to help her before, and no one was about to start now. She was on her own, and that was fine.</p><p>But as she navigated the streets of Coruscant, blinking her blurry eyes against the glare of neon lights, Rey couldn’t help but whisper the same words that had become her nightly ritual: a pointless, desperate plea to the universe.</p><p>“I wish.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The tags have been updated - make sure you check them out. This fic is going to delve into not just the vast injustice of the wealth gap in America, but all the ways powerful people hurt the more vulnerable. That means there will be discussions of trauma. Nothing too explicit, though.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Useless girl,” Plutt grumbled. “The guys could do this twice as fast.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey wiped her sweaty brow with the back of her wrist. Her hands were blackened with grime from working on cars all day. “That’s a lie, and we both know it,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Today was a good day. Her boss was only halfway drunk, and he’d won at poker the previous night, which meant she had more leeway to contradict him. It was a careful balancing act. If Rey never stood up for herself, she’d probably be fired for incompetence, since Plutt took silence as agreement with his outrageous statements. But if she argued with him while he was drunk or after a bad night, he’d retaliate with docked pay, insults, and the threat of termination.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey was lucky to have this job at all. Plutt didn’t ask for documentation, and he didn’t give a shit about anything but getting the work done as quickly as possible while gouging the customers for as much as he could. He didn’t sexually harass her. He’d even let her take time off last year when she’d had the flu. But she was tired of tiptoeing around his moods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plutt’s eyes narrowed. “Careful, girl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey tightened a lug nut, deciding to discard her outrage at being called ‘girl’ for the millionth time. “I’ve tracked how much Teedo and Zuvio work,” she said, “and I’m way more efficient. I’m happy to show you the stats, if you want.” She’d been tracking her workplace dynamics in a spreadsheet, just in case she needed to get into it with Plutt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plutt shook his head vehemently. “No stats,” he said. “Just do your damn job.” With that, he stalked away, battered boots scuffing against the asphalt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey smirked, feeling a sense of triumph at having won that skirmish. She focused back on the car. This one was a real beater, with dented panels, bald tires, and a loose engine mount. She loved it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d always loved cars, for various reasons. How fast they could go, for one. She had a visceral memory of hanging out the window of her friend’s car in high school, screaming into the wind. She’d felt breathless and free, shouting her presence into the world. But she also loved how cars made sense, how they needed love like any other thing in the world. Cars came to the shop suffering, and she sent them away healed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If only the human heart could be fixed so easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Rey looked up from her work, the sun was sinking towards the horizon. She groaned and stood up, stretching to pop her back. A glance at her watch told her she only had a few minutes left on her shift.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She headed towards the office to grab her things. Midnight Sin had a shower, unsurprisingly, which she was incredibly grateful for right now. With her work clothes in her bag, she could head straight to her next job without needing to detour towards home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her stomach rumbled as she headed towards the exit, but that was nothing new. At least she’d bought a few protein bars at the gas station on her way into Plutt’s, and with the time saved on the drive to Midnight Sin, she could grab a sandwich for dinner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See you tomorrow,” she called over her shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plutt grunted. “Lucky me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Rey thought as she stepped into the bustling streets of Coruscant. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You </span>
  </em>
  <span>are</span>
  <em>
    <span> lucky to have me. </span>
  </em>
  <span>No matter how much Plutt blustered and threatened, he knew Rey was his best mechanic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thinking of human hearts in need of repairing, Rey dialed Rose once she was in her car, putting her on speakerphone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, babe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s up?” Rose sounded exhausted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just checking in to see how you’re doing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose sighed. “I’m supposed to do that for you. You’re the one who just started a new job.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bullshit,” Rey said. “I started a new job, but you’re dealing with your sister’s health crisis. That’s way more important.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just hate having my whole life defined by it, you know?” Rose said. “Like… will I ever get a break from thinking about this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey understood. Not about having a sick relative, but about other things. Some struggles were so huge, they eclipsed everything else. “Do you want to talk about something else right now?”<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Rose said after a pause. “I want someone to care.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I</span>
  <span> care,” Rey said vehemently. “So tell me everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose did. She talked about Paige’s recent test results, about how their parents were staunchly denying that the cancer would likely be fatal, about how Rose kept snapping at her boyfriend Finn over the most minor things. “It’s like I’m someone else,” Rose said. “Like I’m pouring all my love into Paige, and when I’m outside the hospital, there’s nothing left inside me but anger and fear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey gripped the steering wheel hard. The stoplight was red in front of her, a harsh glow in the gathering twilight. “That’s isn’t true,” she said, struggling past the lump in her own throat. “You’ve shown me nothing but love, and I’ve seen how you are with Finn. And even if you snap sometimes, it’s understandable. You’re hurting, and you don’t have to be on your best behavior all the time. Finn gets that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He does,” Rose agreed. “He’s the best, most supportive partner in the world, and I know he’ll never leave me… but that doesn’t make it better. You know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not really. Rey didn’t know what having a supportive partner was like. And God, she was such a piece of shit for feeling a twinge of sadness about that while Rose was going through such a hard time. “He loves you,” she said. The light turned green, the glow blurred by the tears she hadn’t realized had started to gather. She blinked to clear them as she toed the gas pedal, her ancient car slow to accelerate. “And I love you. Just as you are. Nothing will change that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw.” Rey could hear the smile in Rose’s voice. “Thanks, babe. You cheered me up.” There was a knocking sound in the background. “Oh, Finn’s here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go spend time with him,” Rey said. “Let him cuddle you. And don’t feel the need to fake it because you don’t want to seem angry or sad. Finn’s a tough guy, and I’ve never seen anyone so in love with a woman in my life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was true. Rey had introduced Finn and Rose a few years ago, and ever since then, the two had been inseparable. They lived together, worked together, played together. Rey had never seen Finn smile as brightly as when he talked about Rose. Even after the stress of the last few months, that smile hadn’t dimmed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re too sweet,” Rose said. “Call me tomorrow? I still want to hear about your job.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey didn’t want to tell Rose about the job. Even though Rose knew it was at a strip club, she would be devastated if she learned how much Rey had been groped and harassed already. And Rey was grateful to Rose for getting her the gig, which she’d desperately needed. “Sure,” she said, already working through what sanitized version of the truth she could tell Rose. “We’ll chat then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The call disconnected as Rey pulled into the parking lot of a sandwich shop. She parked and killed the ignition, then sat in silence for a few minutes, forehead pressed against the steering wheel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her new work “uniform” was in her bag<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>basically, the sluttiest shirt Rey had found in her closet. A long night of bartending awaited.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s just money, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Rey thought as she stepped out of her car. And then, bitterly: </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>always</span>
  <em>
    <span> money.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span># </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He showed up an hour into her shift.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey felt his presence before she saw him. It was a strange sensation, one she couldn’t explain. Her skin prickled, and some animal instinct told her there was something important happening at the front door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben Solo was standing awkwardly in the entrance, looking just as much like a deer in headlights as he had the previous night. After a scan of the room, his gaze settled on Rey. His expression grew determined, and he started striding towards her, ignoring every waitress or working girl who crossed his path.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey couldn’t look away. He was just so… intent. Fierce-looking. A large, unstoppable force of a man who cleared the space in front of him just by existing. And he was focused entirely on her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was wearing all black, except for the gleam of an expensive silver watch at his wrist. The reflections of the shifting stage lights danced over his hair, painting rainbows on the dark waves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someone was talking, but Rey could barely hear them. All she could think about was Ben Solo walking towards her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said a gin martini extra dry with a twist!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The masculine shout finally broke Rey’s fixation on Ben Solo. She turned her attention to the annoyed-looking man who was leaning against the bar top. “Sorry, sir,” she said, reaching for a chilled martini glass. “I’ll get that right away.” Why was it that whenever she saw Ben, her customer service skills went right out the window?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He huffed. “I had to ask </span>
  <em>
    <span>twice,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> he said, in a tone that implied this was a thing that never happened to him and never should. “Do you know how much a minute of my time is worth?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure it’s a lot,” Rey said as she mixed the drink. “You’re a very important man.” They were all important men, weren’t they? At least in their own minds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A minute of my time is worth fifteen dollars. Get that? That’s probably more than your hourly wage.” He looked down his long nose at her. “And since you wasted thirty seconds of my time, you owe me half.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey didn’t have the heart to do the depressing math to figure out this man’s yearly salary. He probably got million-dollar bonuses. “I sincerely apologize,” she said as she finished making the martini. “You may, of course, tip at your discretion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man glared at her as she set the martini in front of him. “Not good enough,” he snapped, pointing a finger at her. “Where’s your manager?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Rey could speak, a large hand wrapped around the man’s wrist. “You will leave her alone,” Ben Solo said in a low growl that sent a shiver down Rey’s spine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck are<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>” The man broke off when he saw exactly how big Ben was. Or maybe it was Ben’s expression; even at an angle, Rey could see he was staring bloody murder.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why, </span>
  </em>
  <span>though?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The customer’s eyes darted all over Ben, cataloguing his opponent. Rey could practically hear his thought process. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Was this a bouncer? No, the clothes are too nice. Then who…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Right on cue, the man spoke. “Who are you?” he asked, wrenching his wrist away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben Solo shrugged, looking unperturbed. “A concerned citizen. And someone who could make your life very, very difficult if you don’t tip well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man’s face grew red. He sputtered, then reached for his wallet and withdrew a bill. “Here,” he snapped, throwing it on the bar. “Enjoy it, slut.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey grabbed the ten dollar bill and shoved it in her pocket. It was a far bigger tip that she normally got on a single drink. “Thank you, sir.” As the man stalked away, Rey turned towards Ben, who was staring after the departing man like he might go after him for that last remark. “What are you doing here?” she asked bluntly. Then she winced, because as much as Ben aggravated and confused her, he had just done her a favor. “Also, thank you. Although I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except Rey’s way of taking care of herself would have ended in either shame from giving her tips to the prick or an immediate sacking for throwing a drink in his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben’s lips quirked as he slid onto a bar stool. “Yes, you have made me very aware of that. But I don’t tolerate that sort of behavior anywhere I see it. It’s easier for men to speak up against other men<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>especially when we aren’t at risk of losing our jobs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Rey fidgeted with a napkin. “That’s… really decent of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged. “I wasn’t always so decent. So I do what I can now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey stared at him, captivated by his solemn face and warm, whiskey-colored eyes. She’d assumed their last interaction was the last time she’d ever see him, yet here he was, sitting at her bar like this was his daily habit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hell, maybe it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you come here a lot?” she blurted, then winced when it sounded like a cheap pickup line.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head. “Never. This isn’t my kind of scene.” He grimaced. “Last night was the first time, but definitely the last time I let Hux talk me into something like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That didn’t make sense. “But you’re back tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am,” he confirmed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fast-paced music on stage transitioned into a slow, sultry grind. The lights shifted from blue to red as Freya started her dance. Ben looked good in the dim red lighting, she realized. More than good. With his black attire and dark hair, he looked like some compelling creature of the underworld.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted a drink,” Ben said. “An old fashioned, specifically.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey narrowed her eyes as she started making the drink. “You could get that at any bar in town.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It tastes better here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unlikely.” Remembering their conversation from yesterday, she bit her lip. “Want to try it with rye? It really is better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben chuckled. “I’d love that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey made the drink in silence, her hands carrying out the familiar motions on autopilot while her brain raced, trying to figure out the puzzle of Ben Solo. He hated strip clubs, but he was here for the second night in a row. She’d been rude to him, but he’d defended her. And his eyes weren’t straying towards the stage, where Freya was doing some serious contortionism<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>they were fixed solely on her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here you go.” She set the cocktail in front of him. “That’ll be fifteen dollars.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He handed her a $50 bill. “Keep the change.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey gaped at him. Suddenly, she understood why he was here. “No,” she said, trying to hand the money back. “I told you I don’t want your charity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Ben said, refusing to take the money. “I’m a customer paying for a service. I get to decide how much I want to tip.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t take it,” Rey said stubbornly, even though the survivor in her was screaming </span>
  <em>
    <span>Take it!</span>
  </em>
  <span>
    <em> Fuck your pride!</em><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked unperturbed. “I’ll just leave it on the bar, then. One of these gentlemen can have it to help pay for an escort.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey’s fingers clenched around the bill. She had nothing against sex work and had known plenty of escorts and prostitutes over the years, but she’d be damned if one of those rich bastards used her tip money rather than opening their own wallets. Lips pressed together, she marched to the cash register and rang up the purchase. The extra $35 went into her pocket. “Thank you, sir,” she said, eyes fixed on the bar top. There was a small spill she needed to clean up, and she focused on the way the lights reflected off the liquid. Easier to do that than look at Ben while so many conflicting emotions were flooding through her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t call me sir,” Ben said in a low voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you’re a customer,” Rey said, hanging on to the one thread that was letting her pride survive this. “I call customers sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But some customers don’t like that,” Ben said. “And the customer is always right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was technically correct. About this, and about his right to tip as he pleased. But Rey could feel the undercurrents beneath the surface of this strange encounter, and they felt like danger. Not to her body<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>she couldn’t imagine Ben hurting a woman, despite not knowing him that well<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>but to some other hidden part of her. The part that wanted, maybe. The part that needed. The part that was desperate to stop worrying for a few minutes and let someone else take care of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t know this man. If she got used to him taking care of her, even if it was just through tipping, she’d start relying on it. And then it would hurt worse when it was inevitably taken away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for the tip, Ben,” she whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome, Rey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked up at him and saw that he had lifted the glass to his mouth. He watched her as he sipped, then licked his lips. “Mmmm,” he said, setting the drink back down. “You were right about the rye.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a bit spicier,” Rey said, sounding breathless. “And drier. The corn mash in bourbon is sweeter than the rye mash…” She trailed off, forgetting everything she was going to say. He’d just reached up to wipe away a stray drop of whiskey, and the sight of those broad fingers brushing over his full lips was… distracting.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, no,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Rey thought as her stomach swooped in a way she hadn’t felt for a long time. Her skin prickled, and her nipples were tight under her low-cut, silky red blouse. The surge of heat she’d just felt wasn’t hate or annoyance. She was <em>attracted</em> to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She might as well be attracted to the moon, for how attainable he was. Men like him, no matter their inclinations towards charity, wanted a different type of woman. They wanted sophisticated ladies who shopped at designer stores and had perfect, shiny hair and soft, unscarred skin. They didn’t want prickly, defensive street rats with engine oil embedded under their nails.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, she watched helplessly as he drank again. His throat worked, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed it down. “I think I have a new favorite drink,” he said. He smiled at her. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another customer approached, which gave her the excuse to tear her attention away from him. She served the newcomer<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>who was thankfully not a massive asshole<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>with a fixed smile, skin heating every time she felt Ben looking at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, traffic picked up as the night got later, and she spent most of her time serving drinks and rushing back and forth from the floor. Ben sat at the bar the whole time, sipping slowly, and when he ran out of the first cocktail, he ordered a second. Again, he gave her a $50 bill. This time, Rey took it without arguing, although her fingers trembled as she slid the change into her pocket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was just a business transaction. So why did it feel like so much more?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With Ben sitting there, fewer people were assholes to her. She commented on it just after midnight. “They should hire you as a bouncer,” she joked. “Everyone’s been downright polite.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scowled. “The bouncers aren’t doing a good job if they aren’t protecting you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If someone tried to hurt me, they’d intervene,” Rey said. She’d seen it earlier, when a man had gotten too handsy with one of the escorts. The bouncer had dragged him off and tossed him out unceremoniously. “But a little pinching and spanking, or being rude… that’s just normal. Even at other bars.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A muscle flickered in Ben’s jaw. “That’s unacceptable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just what happens. Not even just at work. The first time someone grabbed my ass, I was fourteen years old.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes widened. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was at a record store.” She didn’t know why she was telling him this. It was private information, but then again, if he’d somehow managed to get to the age of thirty-something without realizing how often women were harassed, </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone</span>
  </em>
  <span> needed to tell him. “I liked looking at the records, even if I couldn’t buy them. And as I stood in the aisles, looking, an older man walked by, grabbed my ass, and moved on without speaking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d been touched, catcalled, or harassed plenty of times after that<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>it was worst from the ages of fourteen to eighteen, and how fucked up was <em>that?</em><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>but that first time stood out in her memory. She could still see the colorful album artwork in her hands, the yellow background and the scrolling pink letters: “Jimi Hendrix Experience - Are You Experienced?” An ironic coincidence, she supposed. Because no, she hadn't been experienced then, but that encounter had been the beginning of realizing exactly how the world viewed her. Not as a person with hopes, dreams, and bodily autonomy, but as a thing to be used.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben’s hand landed on hers. She jumped, shaken out of the memory. “I’m sorry,” he said. He looked furious and heartbroken all at once. “That’s disgusting. You were just a kid. You deserved to feel safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hand was big and warm. He didn’t clutch at her, just rested it there softly. She breathed in deeply, filling her nostrils with the scent of whiskey, spilled beer, and sweat. Under the familiar bar smell was a hint of expensive cologne: his, no doubt. She let him touch her for a moment, absorbing the feel of his palm against the back of her hand. To be held gently but not constrained<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>a part of her wanted that very badly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wanting things was dangerous. She slid her hand out from under his, grateful when he let her go easily. “It was a long time ago,” she said, rolling her shoulders to work out the tension that had drawn them tight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t mean it ever leaves you,” Ben said. There was something in the way he said it that drew Rey’s attention. His eyes were bleak as he looked down at his drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d been hurt, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey recognized it, like calling to like despite the vast gulf between their stations. It was her turn to reach for him, although she didn’t dare do more than hover her hand over where his was curled into a fist on the bar top. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “For whatever it was.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head, and a slight smile tipped his lips up. “Like you said, it was a long time ago. I have a good life now. I have the power to help people. That makes everything worth it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lights flickered<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">—</span></span>last call. A wave of customers advanced towards the bar. Rey’s pulse hammered in her throat, and her gut tightened as she and Ben stared at each other, caught in some mutual magnetism. It felt like there was an invisible thread connecting them that tightened with every minute. “You don’t have to help me,” she said quietly.<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” he said. “But I’m just a customer, remember? And I like this drink.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was the end of the conversation, since the first customer was sidling up to the bar. Rey took orders and made drinks, grateful for the distraction from Ben. Her insides were all mixed up; she had no idea what she was feeling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the lights went up, Ben stood from his stool. “Have a good night,” he said. Then he turned and walked out, leaving Rey gazing after him, wondering what in the world she was getting herself into.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The chapter count went up. Not because I'm outlining this and have a concrete idea of where I'm going (lol), but because I know myself and there is no way this thing is getting done in 6 chapters. Who knows how long it'll be??</p><p>Rey's first time being groped in public? Was my first time being groped in public. At a record store, by an older man who then walked by like nothing had happened. Women are often treated like they're disposable, and it isn't fair. So Rey's rage is coming from a place of truth and catharsis.</p><p>I know some of you think Rey has been overly petty and should just let Ben take care of her, but for someone as damaged as she is, that trust takes time to build. But I promise to bring our two babies to a place of mutual happiness.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ben kept showing up. Night after night, he’d sit at the bar, nursing an old fashioned while Rey served drinks to the patrons of Midnight Sin. She was so busy she rarely got to talk to him, but he didn’t seem to mind. He just slid her fifty-dollar bills with every drink order, refusing to budge when she grumbled or half-heartedly tried to tell him to stop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey wasn’t sure how she felt about it. On the one hand, it was weird, but on the other hand, those extra hits of cash had allowed her to stock up on groceries. And it wasn’t like the bills being stuffed in Oola’s thong, not a showering of riches in exchange for sexual gratification. Just an extra $35 or $70 a night, in exchange for…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, Rey wasn’t quite sure what Ben was getting out of this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re trying to buy my forgiveness,” she said late Saturday night during a break between customers, “you can stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He quirked one dark brow at her. “Because you’ve forgiven me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighed and swiped sweaty strands of hair off her forehead. “You didn’t fire me. You got mad because I poured a drink on you—and honestly, rightfully so. But the firing… it wasn’t your fault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had taken her a few days to settle down enough to think clearly about what had happened. Was she angry that she’d been fired? Absolutely. Had Ben been rude to her? Also yes. But was she really mad at him, or was she mad at the world she lived in, where people like her were disposable?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey had a hot temper and a tendency to act first, think later, but even she had to acknowledge she’d been awfully quick to judge him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t pour a drink on me,” he said in that low, even voice that reminded her of molten chocolate and rich caramel and all the decadent desserts she’d never be able to afford. It sent a shiver down her spine every time he ordered a drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, I literally dumped red wine all over you,” Rey said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The glass fell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I put it half in your lap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were tired. And hungry.” He paused, eyes tracing over her, mouth working like he was chewing on some secret thought. “Are you still hungry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had two tacos right before coming here, thank you very much—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” he said, planting his elbows on the bar and leaning in. “Not right now. In general.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She huffed out a frustrated breath. “I’m not a charity case, Ben. You don’t have to be my soup kitchen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not that—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Margarita on the rocks, sugar rim!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shouted order was a welcome distraction from the uncomfortable conversation. Rey smiled at the customer, a college-aged kid in designer clothes with the bored, pinched look of someone who looked down on the rest of the world. He had dark sunglasses perched on his head, despite it being A) indoors and B) nearly midnight, and his phone was held up in front of his face. Was he... filming her? “Coming right up,” Rey said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She mixed the triple sec, tequila, lime juice, and agave nectar, then poured it into a chilled cocktail shaker and shook vigorously. A swipe of lime on the rim of the glass, a quick swivel in a bowl of sugar, and then she poured the margarita into the glass and garnished it with a lime. “That’ll be sixteen dollars,” she said, setting the margarita down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kid scoffed, lowering his phone. “For that? I’ve seen it done way flashier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, well, we don’t all have the time to watch the movie ‘Cocktail’ on repeat,” Rey said. She had watched videos of other bartenders “flairing” before—juggling, throwing shakers around, lighting things on fire to entertain their patrons—but she’d never learned the performance art. That was for high-profile bartenders, the kind who were an attraction all on their own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know how many views that would’ve gotten on TikTok?” the kid asked. “Seriously, this is your job. You should at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>try</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be good at it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for caring about my career,” Rey said sweetly. “The margarita is still sixteen dollars.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t like your tone. Do you know who my fath—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben cleared his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kid looked over, and his jaw snapped shut when he saw how intently Ben was staring at him. He muttered something under his breath as he pulled out his wallet, then slapped a black Amex down on the bar.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Daddy’s money, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Rey thought bitterly. He looked down his nose at her as she ran the card, and even though he was the kind of ridiculous asshole who wore sunglasses indoors and filmed his drink orders for TikTok, and even though he was probably a few years younger than Rey, she still felt the sting of his condescension. He looked at her like she was no better than a wad of chewed up gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe. As Rey thanked him for the one-dollar tip he shoved in her jar, she felt like that gum, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where were we?” she asked Ben as the kid sauntered away with his cocktail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben’s jaw was tense. “Someone should teach that little shit a lesson.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey couldn’t help it. She laughed. “What kind of lesson? He acted better than half the guys in here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He needs to learn respect,” Ben said stubbornly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my God, you sound like you’re in a gangster film. What are you going to do, beat him up in an alleyway?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” Ben muttered, toying with his napkin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lovely.” Rey rested her elbow on the bar, leaning over and propping her head in her hand. “I suppose you’ll have no trouble paying bail, but tomorrow’s headlines will be interesting. ‘Cranky Millionnaire Beats Up Very Important Man’s Son.’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care who his father is. And I’m an important man, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey rolled her eyes at Ben's sulky tone. “I’m sure you are. Look, he’s shitty, but he’s just a kid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, he’s an adult who needs to learn how to act like one.” Ben was still staring at her with that penetrating look that made Rey feel like he was trying to see inside her head. “Do you consider yourself a kid?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Rey didn’t hesitate. She hadn’t felt like a kid in a long time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then he isn’t, either.” Ben paused, rolling his lips between his teeth. “How old are you, anyway?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Trying to figure out if I’m eighteen, old man?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey had been joking, but to her surprise, Ben flushed. “That’s not what I meant,” he muttered, looking down at his hands. He was mauling the poor napkin, ripping it to shreds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey took pity on him. “I’m twenty-three,” she said. “You?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked hesitant to tell her. “Thirty-three,” he finally said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“An even decade between us, then.” Rey considered him, wondering if that age gap was too large. Not that he would ever be interested in her in a serious way—the idea was ludicrous—but Rey liked to be somewhat reasonable when it came to her crushes. Thirty-three divided by two plus seven... </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, whatever. She could lust after the rich older man if she wanted to. He was just working out his guilt by coming here so often; eventually, he’d forget and drift away, and Rey’s stupid crush wouldn’t matter at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben still looked nervous and upset, so she tried to lighten the mood. “Maybe by the time I’m thirty-three, I’ll be just like you. Filthy rich, occasionally pissy, the valiant defender of poor bartenders.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolled his eyes, and then his lips quirked in a small smile. “I’m pissy far more than occasionally.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey laughed—a bright, genuine laugh. In response, Ben’s smile bloomed wider. “Do you think I’ll end up as tall as you?” Rey asked, wanting to extend the moment. “You’ve got a solid six or seven inches on me, but there’s still time for me to grow. And oooh, maybe I’ll get that fabulous hair—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re the perfect height,” Ben interrupted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And oh, he was really blushing now, looking as awkward as a schoolboy who had said something foolish. “Um, you can reach the top shelves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey bit her lip to avoid laughing at him. “Very important for a bartender,” she agreed solemnly. “You’re a practical man, Ben Solo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>God, what </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> it about him? Broody asshole one moment, bashful sweetheart the next. He defied any of the normal boxes she would have put him in. Rich and out-of-touch, yes, but kind and trying to help her. Powerful, but able to concede that power. It was… confusing. And appealing. Like a puzzle box she wanted to figure out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A customer snagged her attention, and then another, and it was twenty minutes before she could talk to Ben again. And wait, when had she started </span>
  <em>
    <span>looking forward</span>
  </em>
  <span> to their conversations? “So,” she said, feeling unsettled by how much her perception of him kept shifting. “What do you do, anyway? What’s your life like? You were such a prick when we met, and now you’re…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Ben asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you’re kind of… sweet?” Rey grimaced. “Don’t let that go to your head.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t look flattered. On the contrary, he shook his head, looking tired. “I don’t think I’m sweet. Just trying to do better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Than what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hand tightened around his glass. “Another old fashioned, please?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey nodded, then started making it. She could feel the weight of unspoken words in the air, and whenever she glanced at Ben, she could tell he was wrestling with something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kaydel had always told her bartenders doubled as therapists. But did Rey want to be Ben’s therapist? She mulled it over, wondering how someone even started a conversation like that with a near-stranger. Was she supposed to open up? Offer an anecdote about her own life? If so, Rey would rather be dunked in acid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve always been moody,” Ben said, startling Rey out of her reverie. “I… have a hard time when things go bad. And the night we met, something had gone very bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey swiped a shaving of orange peel over the rim, then slipped it into the drink as a garnish. “What happened?” she asked, plucking Ben’s $50 bill from his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head. “Just a ghost.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey felt the urge to make a crack about psychics or Ghostbusters, but she resisted. Whatever Ben was thinking about was serious. “So you had a bad night when I got fired,” she said. “Doesn’t mean you aren’t sweet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reached out and gripped her hand. Rey startled at the sudden contact, but she held still, heart racing, disinclined to move even though he was holding her firmly enough she wouldn’t be able to pull away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rey,” he said, low and intense. His eyes seemed to burn, the dark whiskey irises sparking with light from the stage. “I’m—I don’t want you thinking I’m better than I am. I try, but God, the things I’ve done, the thing I was…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey should protect her heart. She should leave this obviously broken man alone, let him grapple with his ghosts without her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Rey had always been a creature of instinct and action, and Ben Solo’s pain called to her. She turned her hand over and laced her fingers with his. “Your past doesn’t define you,” she said, quiet but certain. “It may have shaped you, but you get to decide who you are now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head. “If you knew…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Solo!” The cheerful greeting came from Proxima, who was doing her regular rounds of the floor. She looked decadent in a floor-length blue velvet gown. “I’m so glad to see you’ve become a regular.” She winked. “We offer more than just drink service, if you’re interested.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m— I—” Ben looked flustered. “I need to go to the bathroom,” he blurted, then hurried away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Proxima winked at Rey. “Good job,” she said. “You’ve got him on a string.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey blinked a few times. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The madam jerked her head towards the restrooms. “Solo. He owns the Coruscant Times, you know. Not a bad person to have in your corner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey absorbed this new information. The Coruscant Times was a newspaper with a reputation for nationally-respected exposes and investigative pieces. And Ben</span>
  <em>
    <span> owned</span>
  </em>
  <span> it? “He’s a good customer,” she said, for lack of anything else she was willing to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Proxima made a humming noise in agreement. “He’ll definitely pay to play. You could easily get a thousand for the night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Realization struck Rey like a runaway truck. Nausea roiled in her stomach. “You want me to sleep with him for money?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Proxima nodded, like that was a totally normal thing to say to a bartender after her first week on the job. “If you need accommodations, we have rooms in the back. The house gets 50% of any take from a john you meet here, obviously, but we’ll pay for a room, protection, STD testing—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” The word burst out of Rey, far too loud. “That’s not… that’s not me.”</span>
</p><p><span>She’d had one-night stands in the past. In a life as shitty as hers had been, those brief encounters had been pretty much the only romantic contact she’d gotten. She’d hated every single one of them. Being physically close without trust just didn’t work for her. Those men hadn’t known her, hadn’t truly </span><em><span>seen </span></em><span>her. She’d been a convenient hole, not a human being with a complex inner life. Yet each time, Rey had given in, despite knowing better, because she was starved</span> <span>for connection, desperate for a gentle human touch. It had never been worth it.</span></p><p>
  <span>And besides… Even though Ben Solo had been the reason behind her firing, even though he confused and irritated and intrigued her… he talked to her like she was a person. She couldn’t turn that into a transaction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Proxima scowled. “What, you think you’re too good for it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Rey said honestly. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about turning to prostitution during her darkest moments, and she didn’t judge anyone who did. But her body, her heart… they didn’t work like that. “It’s just not how I’m built.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is the opportunity of a lifetime,” Proxima said. “You think anyone else wants your skinny ass?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>He</span>
  </em>
  <span> doesn’t even want my skinny ass,” Rey snapped. “And it’s not for sale, which I’m pretty sure I told you in the interview.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I told you everyone’s for sale.” Proxima slapped a hand on the bar and leaned in, face alive with anger. “Don’t you want a better life? Don’t you want to get out of places like this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was a trick question if Rey had ever heard one. “I’m happy in my position here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bullshit,” Proxima said. “You think I haven’t heard about your attitude with patrons? You think I don’t know you hate this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey flinched. This was it, then. She was going to be fired if she didn’t back down. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” she forced through a tight throat. “I’ll work on my attitude.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Proxima said. “You’ll work on your expectations.” Her red-painted lips twisted. “No one wants to kiss these fuckers’ boots or suck their cocks, you understand? But we do whatever we have to do to get paid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey’s eyes darted between Proxima, the floor, and the stage. This place was full of contrasts—the cynicism on Proxima’s face versus the smile on Oola’s. The darkened seats before a bright stage. The joy over an undercurrent of rage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t fuck him,” Rey said through numb lips. “Not for money.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Proxima scoffed. “Sure thing, new girl. Let’s see how long that lasts.” She pushed away from the bar. “The owner’s stopping by shortly. Snoke. Try not to fuck things up, all right?”<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey watched her supervisor walk away, all slinking grace in her blue dress. A hollow ache grew in her chest. How long before the services that had seemed optional when taking this job became mandatory?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” Ben was back again, sliding into his seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey forced a smile. “Welcome back,” she said. “Can I get you another drink?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben’s forehead creased, and his mouth tightened. “Why are you talking to me in your fake customer service voice?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey laughed, though this one was forced. “Because you are a customer, silly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben’s eyes narrowed. He leaned in, elbow planted on the bar, broad hand extended towards her. “Something happened,” he said. “Tell me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey’e eyes burned. How dare he ask that of her? How dare he pretend to care? She was just his charity project, nothing more. An amusement that would be quickly cast aside. “It’s nothing,” she said, reaching for a clean glass even though he was only halfway through his drink. “Another old fashioned?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben’s hand caught her wrist. She wanted to shake him off, but for some reason, she stilled under his touch. “No,” he said, eyes darting between hers. “That’s not what we do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her lips twisted bitterly. “Solo, we’ve known each other for a week. We don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Ben,” he said. “And something’s obviously wrong. What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey should have broken his hold on her wrist. She didn’t. “You wouldn’t understand,” she said softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Understand what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey swallowed the lump in her throat. “What it’s like to be powerless.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His entire face changed. From soft and concerned to an expression so furious and sad, it made Rey suck in an involuntary breath. “I do know,” he said. "Although I’m sure you won’t believe it. No one ever does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ben, what—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hsst!” Proxima said, bustling by again like an elegant jack-in-the-box that appeared whenever she was least welcome. “Snoke is here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great,” Rey said. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned back to Ben, expecting him to still look like he wanted to argue or prod the truth out of her. Instead, he was frozen: eyes wide, face drawn in rigid lines. He was looking in Rey’s direction, but it was obvious he wasn’t actually seeing her. He was looking at something far beyond her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another ghost, maybe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ben,” she said softly. When he didn’t answer, she rested her fingertips on the back of his hand. "Ben?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He flinched at the touch and ripped his hand away. Awareness returned to his eyes in a rush. “I have to go,” he said, standing up so quickly he staggered. “I didn’t know— I can’t—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ben,” Rey said again, alarm pricking her heart. “What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head, muttering something under his breath. Then he was gone, shouldering through the crowd. She watched as he took a circuitous route around the room, heading in a jagged path towards the door. His shoulders were hunched and head lowered, as if he was trying to make himself appear smaller.<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey wanted to run after him and demand answers, but Proxima was approaching again with a tall, important-looking man at her side. Snoke, presumably. He was tall and thin, with an outrageous gold suit, a scarred cheek, and an air of expensive menace. When his ice-blue eyes fixed on her, Rey barely refrained from shuddering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes people surprised you with their shittiness. Other times, it was stamped so clearly in their dead, cold eyes that you could immediately tell it went beyond mere assholeishness. There was evil hiding behind Snoke’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She's new,” he said in a posh British accent. It was a far more refined and focused version of Rey’s own accent, which, while Americanized, had never quite lost its lilt from her unknown British parents.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our newest bartender, Rey.” Proxima smiled at her with bared teeth. “Mr. Snoke’s preferred beverage is a gin martini.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Make it dirty,” he said, the words rolling over his tongue in a way that made Rey’s skin crawl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, sir.” Rey lowered her head respectfully, then started making the cocktail. She moved as quickly as she could, aware the entire time of Snoke’s eyes burning into her back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is she earning yet?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not quite,” Proxima said, “but she’s close. Already has a john on the hook after just a week on the job.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey stiffened, but she knew better than to say anything. She poured the martini into a chilled glass, then turned and offered it to Snoke with a smile. “Here you go. That’ll be—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely free,” Proxima said with a laugh. “As always.” The smile she directed at Snoke was fawning and saccharine, but when her eyes slid to Rey’s, they held a very different emotion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey was a creature of the streets. She knew fear when she saw it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come look at the dancers,” Proxima coaxed. “Rystáll has improved her technique since the last time you were here. She's earning far more, too.” Her voice lowered to a murmur as they moved off, and Rey strained to catch the words. “...in the back... new shipment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snoke nodded, a smile twisting his thin lips. Then they were gone, moving through a crowd that parted before Snoke like courtiers bowing to royalty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey felt cold, despite the warmth of a club packed full of bodies. She shivered, rubbing her upper arms, and looked towards the door. Ben was long-since gone, and she knew in her heart it had something to do with Snoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What happened?</span>
  </em>
  <span> she thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What do you know?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe he had dirt on Snoke through his newspaper. Maybe they were professional enemies of some sort. She’d ask Ben tomorrow, when he came for his usual cocktail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the next night, Ben didn’t show up.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This fic is going to get darker. I'll update tags as we go, but this is going to be much angstier than my usual work, so be prepared!</p><p>I hope you liked this new chapter. If you did, please let me know in the comments!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rey smiled as she finished installing a new timing belt. She straightened up and closed the hood of the sedan with a satisfactory thunk. Another patient restored to health.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Next to her, Teedo had just removed the oil pan of a silver BMW. “Can’t believe they let it go this long,” he muttered as black oil drained out. “A car this expensive, and you don’t change the fucking oil?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey winced in sympathy. “I hate seeing nice cars neglected.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rich fucks,” Teedo said. “More money than sense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey didn’t get along particularly well with Teedo most days, but for once, they were in agreement. She wondered what kind of car Ben drove, if he was more careful with its maintenance than this BMW’s owner. He probably was, if his treatment of her was anything to go by.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stop thinking about him</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she told herself. He hadn’t come back to Midnight Sin for a week; clearly he was done with her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fact hadn’t pleased Proxima. “Did you do something to run him off?” the woman had asked the previous night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Rey had said. “Maybe he’s on a work trip.” It was a feeble lie. Rey knew that once someone disappeared like that, they never came back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm.” Proxima had narrowed her eyes. “If I were you, I’d start buttering up other customers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey hadn’t even argued with that. She knew which way the wind was blowing. She was going to have to make a choice soon: sell her body to keep the job or refuse and get fired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey wanted to say she would refuse. She was scouring job boards, submitting applications at 2 or 3 AM when she got home from the bar, but no one had responded. It was a tough job market, and no one was particularly eager to hire a girl with a spotty employment record who had been fired from her last job. If she got fired from this one, too, it would be nearly impossible for a new employer to trust her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Knowing that… could she refuse?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a problem for another day. Rey wiped her hands on a rag and headed to the break room to grab some water. A grease-stained newspaper sat out on the table, and the header caught her eye. The Coruscant Times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She picked it up, leaving fresh grease spots on the page. The headlines were lofty and serious, detailing international crises that felt as distant to Rey as Jupiter. What did it matter to her who the current incompetent fuck of a president had pissed off now? She could rage at the stupid state of US politics all she wanted, but in the end, who would hear? She was too busy trying to survive to get seriously involved in activism, and no one cared what a nobody like her thought, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighed as she set the paper back down. She trailed her fingers over the header, thinking about Ben. This was probably the closest she’d get to him ever again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The world was back to its proper state, but Rey felt hollow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she finished her break and headed back into the garage, she stopped short to see her car up on blocks. “What are you doing?” she demanded, storming over to where Zuvio was changing a tire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s it fucking look like?” He clucked disapprovingly at the state of her tread. “Nearly bald. You should know better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop.” Panic filled Rey’s chest, a hot, clenching emotion that made her feel dizzy. “I didn’t order a tire change.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zuvio’s eyebrows raised. “Tell that to Plutt. He’s got the order. Tire change, oil change, inspection. Further repairs based on that. I can already tell you the serpentine belt needs replacing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can do it myself,” Rey snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what I thought,” he said, “but then you filed an order with Plutt like some fucking princess.” Across the garage, Teedo laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey’s cheeks burned. “I didn’t,” she said. “So stop it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not giving up my commission.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was what terrified Rey. She couldn’t afford those fixes--not when she was saving every penny in case she got fired from Midnight Sin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe this was a sick prank. Or maybe Plutt was trying to keep her under his thumb, ensuring she had to keep working for shit wages at the garage. She stormed towards her boss’s office, ready to rip into him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plutt looked up at her from behind his desk. A waft of vodka-scented air hit Rey’s nose, and she prayed he wasn’t too drunk to hear sense. “Why is Zuvio working on my car?” she demanded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plutt shoved an order form across the desk. “Because you ordered it. Or your boyfriend did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey snatched up the paper, scanning the lines. The information was all there - her license plate and name, the requested maintenance. “Boyfriend?” she asked, looking up at Plutt in confusion. “Who ordered this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged. “Tall guy. Looked like a real prick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was he talking about… “Ben?” she demanded, heart leaping and sinking all at once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How the fuck should I remember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was his last name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dunno.” Plutt lifted his flask and took a pull. “Seems a bit precious of you, making the boys do the work when you could have done it yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She couldn’t have done it without paying for parts. Rey looked down at the signature line, and yes, there it was: an elegant, swooping </span>
  <em>
    <span>BS.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Fucking Ben,” she muttered, panic morphing into anger. Did he seriously think he could just waltz in and fuck with her life? “I had no idea.” How had he found her, anyway? She’d mentioned Plutt’s name a time or two, but she hadn’t expected him to remember.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plutt snorted. “Shocked a mangy rat like you landed a boyfriend. Maybe it’s a different arrangement, though.” He winked. “He promised to pay extra if we had it done by the time you get off. What’s he getting in return?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>God, could she get away from these gross assumptions for just one second? “He’s not my boyfriend,” she said through gritted teeth. “Or my sugar daddy or whatever other creepy thing you’re assuming. He’s… a friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t, though. She had no idea what their relationship was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” Plutt drawled, drawing the word out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey glared at her boss. She hated the sight of him--the beady, cruel eyes, the cheeks red from sun and alcohol, the perpetual leer. “I’m taking lunch,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Plutt could say anything else, she stormed out of his office. She snatched the newspaper from the break room and rifled through it until she found an address, then ripped off part of the page and shoved it in the pocket of her coveralls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She left the garage and ran down the sidewalk towards the bus stop. She shouldn’t be spending money on bus fare to downtown, but Ben hadn’t left her much of a choice, had he? Her fucking car was up on blocks, with Zuvio’s hands probably deep in her engine by now. The thought of someone else touching her car made her sick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bus pulled up, and Rey hopped on. She fished in her wallet for coins, ignoring the driver’s look of disgust at her dirty, oily state. Then she grabbed a pole and held on as the bus lurched forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben Solo had no idea what was coming for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>#</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey stormed into the offices of the Coruscant Times. The lobby was refined and modern, full of chrome accents, uncomfortable-looking furniture, and pretentious art. The receptionist was just as refined, with a sleek coil of blonde hair and a crisp black shirt that looked like some futuristic military uniform. She looked up, and her face transitioned from pleasant to alarmed. “May I help you?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ben Solo,” Rey said. “I need to see him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The receptionist’s eyes flicked from Rey’s messy, sweat-damp hair to her oil-stained coveralls. “He’s busy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care if he’s busy,” Rey said, planting her hands on the counter. “I need to see him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The receptionist grimaced at the streaks Rey was leaving on the marble countertop. “He doesn’t take walk-ins.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanna bet?” Rey jerked her head towards the phone. “Call him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If he had an appointment, I would have been informed,” the woman said in icy tones. “You do not have an appointment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, no shit.” Rey gestured at her dirty attire. “Call him. Tell him Rey wants to see him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They held a silent battle, eyes locked as they waited for the other to back down. Apparently realizing Rey wasn’t going to leave until she got what she wanted, the receptionist sighed and broke the stare-off. She reached for the phone, jabbing the buttons with one manicured finger. “Hi Mitaka,” she said. “There’s a… person... here for Mr. Solo.” She glared at Rey. “No appointment. Seems to think he’ll see her anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mitaka said something on the other end of the phone, and the receptionist chuckled. “Exactly my thoughts. Her name is Rey, if that matters.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey heard Mitaka repeat the name on the other end of the phone. Then there was a commotion, and a new voice came through. Even distorted by the handset, Rey recognized it. “Rey?” Ben demanded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Ben,” she said loudly, leaning over the desk. “We need to talk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry, Mr. Solo,” the receptionist said, shielding the phone and turning away. “She wouldn’t leave. I can call security--” She stopped short at whatever Ben was saying, his low rumble coming through harsh and fast. Her jaw dropped, and she looked back at Rey with wide eyes. “Really? No, of course, sir. I understand. I’ll send her right up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She replaced the phone in its cradle, eyeing Rey like she was a snake that might strike at any moment. “You can go up. Sixteenth floor. Suite 601.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey didn’t bother thanking the woman for her condescension. She stalked to the elevator, ignoring the disgusted look of the businesswoman already waiting there. Yeah, Rey was dirty and smelled like sweat and engine oil. Too fucking bad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They rode up in silence. Rey watched the numbers climb, her heart rate accelerating. What was she going to say to Ben? She wanted to scream at him, then shake him for having the gall to meddle in her life, but she also wanted to grab his hand and beg to know why he’d left her.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Everyone leaves,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Rey reminded herself. She’d known he would, too. But then why had he paid for the car repairs?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was his final attempt to discharge his imagined debt, and now that it was over, he was done with her. He probably hated that she was here. Maybe he would be embarrassed to be seen with her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The doors slid open, and the businesswoman darted out. Rey followed. The floor was busy, full of chatter and the clack of keys. Another reception desk stood directly ahead, this one staffed by a nervous looking man. “You must be Rey,” he said. “Mr. Solo is in--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Suite 601,” Rey said, blowing past him. “I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t need to ask which one that was, because Ben Solo was standing in the doorway, hand gripping the knob tightly. His shoulders were tense, but as his eyes drifted over her, his posture relaxed. He even smiled like he was happy to see her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That wouldn’t last for long. Rey stopped in front of him. “What the fuck?” she demanded loudly. Nearby conversation paused, and heads swiveled to look in their direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben winced. “Let’s talk in my office.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey stalked past him, shivering when her shoulder brushed his chest. The door closed behind them, shutting out the sound from outside. Then it was just the two of them, alone for the very first time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey couldn’t stop looking at Ben. She’d missed him, she realized--missed the soft pout of his lips, the dark, tragic eyes, the solid frame that seemed capable of weathering any blow life dealt him. He looked delicious in his charcoal slacks and white dress shirt. His sleeves were rolled up, showing muscled forearms, and the knot of his red tie was loose. His dark hair was tousled, like he’d been running his hands through it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rey.” He said her name like a prayer. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The reminder of work brought her back to earth, and she scowled at him. “What the fuck were you thinking, paying for my car to be repaired?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d mentioned needing new tires,” he said in that deep, compelling voice. “And since I hadn’t been to the bar…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You thought I’d be okay taking your charity?” Rey was so mad she could claw his eyes out. She planted a hand on his chest and shoved lightly, feeling a thrill of satisfaction at the dirty handprint she left behind. “I could have made all those fixes myself,” she said. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>have made them myself.” That was part of what hurt the most--after all the time, sweat, and love she’d put into that car, it felt like something had been stolen from her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he said, clearly not getting it, “but you also needed parts, and--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey cut him off. “And you’re rich, and I should just get on my knees and thank you for paying for new tires like you’re my fucking sugar daddy or something. That’s what they think at the garage now, you know, so thanks for that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His cheeks reddened. “It isn’t like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it like, Ben?” she demanded, planting both hands on his chest. She fisted his shirt, twisting the soft fabric in her dirty fingers. “What are you trying to buy from me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not trying to buy anything,” he said, voice rising as he stepped closer. “I’m trying to do you a fucking favor, because--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A </span>
  <em>
    <span>favor?</span>
  </em>
  <span> You think I want your favors?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what you want, Rey,” Ben snapped. They were standing so close, Rey could feel the heat pouring off of him. Fury crackled in his brown eyes, and it sent a thrill through Rey. Electric heat gathered low in her belly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want…” God, what did she want? She wanted to fight him, shout at him, punish him for making her feel these hot, confused emotions. She wanted to smash the barrier wealth and privilege had put between them, to make him realize she wasn’t a plaything or a charity project but a woman, a real woman who wanted… who wanted...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” he asked. They were both breathing hard, chests rising and falling in tandem. “What do you fucking want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was the sight of those full, red lips shaping the word ‘fucking’ that did it. Rey’s anger, confusion, and need boiled over into one white-hot impulse. She stood on her toes and tugged him towards her, smashing her lips into his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kissed her back instantly, like he’d just been waiting for her to take that final step. His arms locked around her, and he clutched her close as his mouth worked over hers. His kisses were hot, deep, and hungry; he kissed her like he wanted to consume her, like he would die without the taste of her. Rey moaned into his mouth, abandoning her grip on his shirt to sink her hands into his hair. It was even softer than she’d guessed, and she tugged on it to punish him for being so perfect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He groaned, and his hands dropped to her ass. He kneaded the curve through her coveralls, holding her tight to his body. His erection pressed against her lower belly, and answering wetness gathered between Rey’s thighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They could fuck it out right here. Release the slow simmering tension with her bent over his desk, then go back to their separate lives. Rey broke away to reach for his belt, but Ben stopped her with a hand on her wrist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” he panted. He looked like a mess--white shirt now streaked with grease, hair mussed, lips swollen. She wanted to mess him up more, ruin all his nice clothes, leave her mark all over his fancy life. Something to remember her by.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Isn’t this what you wanted, old man?” she asked, trying to wriggle her hand free so she could get those slacks off of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes widened, and he backed away from her suddenly, hands raised in the air. “No. No. That’s not what this was about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me?” Rey was stung by the horrified expression on his face. “You don’t want sex? That’s not what your raging boner says.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried to cover the bulge in his slacks with his hands, but Rey had already gotten a good look. “Look,” he said. “Clearly I like you. But I don’t want… that’s not why I bought the tires.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey’s stomach dropped. She laughed disbelievingly. “You actually think I’m fucking you because of the tires?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked uncomfortable. “Well, you said that thing about the sugar daddy…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tears pricked Rey’s eyes. “My God, can we have one second between us that isn’t about money?” She’d just wanted to take something for herself. It was like sampling the uneaten desserts at First Order--the taste was sweeter for having been stolen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit.” Ben jammed his hands into his hair. “This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you’ve made that pretty clear.” Rey brushed past him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not like that.” Ben grabbed her arm, but she shook it off. “Come on, Rey. It was a misunderstanding.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey allowed herself one last look at him, drinking in all that perfection she’d never get to have for real. They would never be just a man and just a woman; the money had mixed things up between them. “I’m not your charity case, Ben. You don’t get to come into my life and upend everything just because you feel guilty about a glass of spilled wine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I keep telling you, it’s not guilt,” he said. He was still trying to argue; could he not see how making their… whatever this connection was… into a transaction had warped everything? “It was at first, but now it’s just…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just what?” Rey asked, wiping a tear off her cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mouth worked. When he didn’t say anything, Rey shook her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for the tires, Ben,” she said in a defeated tone. “But I don’t want any more of your money. Have a nice life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned and left. As she dashed tears out of her eyes, she wondered why it felt like she had left a little piece of her heart behind her.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Idiots, both of them.</p><p>Consistent chapter count? I don't know her.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rey was in a foul mood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She couldn’t focus on work, and she was making stupid mistakes. She broke a glass, then had to remake three cocktails in a row, which resulted in zero tips. Her face felt like it was about to shatter from the strain of smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pull it together,” Proxima said when she passed by. “Snoke’s on his way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep well last night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a lie. Not entirely<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">—</span></span>she rarely slept well<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">—</span></span>but the truth was that her interaction with Ben earlier that afternoon had gotten under her skin. She cycled between anger, grief, and guilt, unable to stop replaying the kiss and what came after.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kiss had been incredible. Fiery. Passionate. Transcendent, even, which was a word she’d never thought to apply to the act of two people mashing their mouths together. But that kiss...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had felt like a missing puzzle piece had slotted into place, and she’d finally seen the whole picture of what could happen between the two of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then she’d ruined it… or had he? Rey couldn’t untangle the threads of what had gone wrong. The argument had happened so fast, and that mention of the sugar daddy thing had slammed her back down to earth so brutally it had</span>
  <em>
    <span> hurt.</span>
  </em>
  <span> But she’d been the one to bring up the sugar daddy thing in the first place, so had Ben just been trying to assuage her fears?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t help that he hadn’t been able to explain what he felt, either. Did he want her as she was, messed up and imperfect, or was he still trying to be the white knight who would save her from her life? Did Rey </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>a white knight? The thought of being cared for and made safe was so tempting it made her want to cry, but real life didn’t work like that. And if he tried to be some kind of protector for her, she would never feel like his equal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey was all mixed up inside, and she didn’t know how to articulate any of it. All she knew was that it hurt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oola came up to the bar during her break. Rey handed the dancer a giant glass of water. “Looking good up there,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oola grinned. “Thanks. I finally perfected that rubber double elbow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I honestly don’t know which bit that was,” Rey confessed. “It all looks hard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oola laughed. “One of the bendy ones.” She eyed Rey. “You know, if you want to learn, I’m happy to teach you.” Rey must have made an alarmed expression, because Oola quickly clarified. “Not to dance here<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">—</span></span>no offense, but it’s pretty clear you would hate that. I teach pole at a private studio, and we focus on fitness and female empowerment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d like that,” Rey said honestly. “I can’t afford it right now, but maybe someday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oola nodded. “Maybe someday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Someday</span>
  </em>
  <span> was a lie, but a comforting one. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Someday</span>
  </em>
  <span> meant a future that involved more than just worrying about next month’s rent. It meant time to dance and laugh and learn new things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Rey blurted. “If you think I judge you for dancing here. I don’t, and I honestly love watching you. It’s just not…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not for you,” Oola finished. She nodded. “I get it. We take power where we can. And if dancing for men doesn’t make you feel powerful, don’t do it. Pole makes me happy however I get to do it, and if I get to take cash off some rich assholes while doing it, then to me that’s just being an entrepreneur. No one’s forcing me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad,” Rey said. “That no one’s forcing you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oola’s frowned. “Is someone forcing you?” she asked softly. “To be here, to do something you hate?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey shook her head. “No one is forcing me. I guess… life is just forcing me. If I wasn’t here, I’d end up homeless again, and I just… can’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her throat thickened. She didn’t often talk about what it had been like growing up on and off the streets. The cold, the hunger, the fear... She’d slept with a knife in her hand and her back to a wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oola covered her hand with hers. “You’ll get out,” she promised. “This is just a phase of life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey laughed brokenly and dashed away tears with the back of her wrist. “It’s a fucking long phase, I’ll tell you that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, that's going to make the next phase feel a thousand times better." Oola leaned in, planting her elbows on the bar. "You seem extra tense tonight. Is that what’s worrying you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey bit her lip. Could she confide in someone about Ben? But Oola’s brown eyes were warm and kind, and Rey could use a friend right now. “There’s a guy,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he being a dick?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, not at all… Or maybe? I’m just so confused.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oola nodded. “Tell me everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey sighed, wondering how to make another person understand both the complicated beginning of her relationship with Ben and the intense attraction that had developed between them. “He accidentally got me fired from my last job because I spilled wine on him, so he’s been coming in here and tipping big to make up for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oola’s eyes widened. “The hot guy who sits at the bar? The one who glares at anyone who comes near you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So it wasn't just Proxima who'd noticed Ben's behavior towards her. “That's the one. Well… we kissed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oola gasped. “That’s so exciting!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But he’s rich, and I don’t know how to be with him. And I don’t know how he wants to be with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Oola considered. “So you’re wondering if this is a sugar daddy situation? Honestly, girl, a sugar daddy can be a blessing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know.” Rey ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the sweat-dampened strands. “But I don’t want to be bought.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he actually trying to buy you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the thing,” Rey said. “I don’t know. He’s been tipping big, and today he got my car repaired without asking me, which pissed me off, but I keep telling him I don’t want him to be throwing money at me out of guilt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, he definitely should have asked before fucking with your car,” Oola said. “Especially because you’re a mechanic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right?” Rey was relieved someone else understood why she was upset about what had, in theory, been a sweet gesture. “I just can’t figure out what’s in his head. I don’t even know what’s in my head.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look.” Oola pinned her with a firm stare. “The best way to figure that out is to talk to him. Not here at the bar, where you’re in a service position and the power dynamic is off. Go get coffee or a drink. And then just fucking talk about it. If you don’t want a sugar daddy, tell him. If you want to date him for real, tell him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey groaned. “Talking is hard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, good things often are.” Oola glanced at the clock behind the bar, then winced. “I have to get back up there. But hey, promise me you’ll talk to him. Don’t let a good thing go because you’re scared.” She stood upright, and then her eyes widened. “In fact… maybe that little chat can happen after work tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Rey asked, but Oola was already gone, heading through the door that led backstage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” The low rumble behind her made Rey’s skin prickle with goosebumps, and a shiver raced up her spine. She turned to see Ben standing at the bar, looking absolutely wrecked. His hair was a mess, and his face was tense. His eyes darted around the room like he was searching for threats.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ben!” Relief washed through Rey at the sight of him, and before her mind could catch up with her body, she was reaching for him, her hands landing on his shoulders. “I thought I’d never see you again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grimaced. “Yeah, well, you almost didn’t. I can’t come back here anymore. But Rey… I couldn’t just leave it like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She swallowed a lump in her throat. “Me, neither.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His chest expanded as he took a deep breath. “So this is the last time I’ll try this. If you tell me you don’t want anything I have to offer, I’ll be gone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">—</span></span>” Rey started to speak, but a man’s voice interrupted her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, well, well.” Rey jumped at the drawled words and jerked her hands away from Ben’s shoulders. She turned to see Snoke standing at the bar. An ugly smirk twisted his face, tugging at his scar. “Ben Solo,” he said with obvious relish. “How long has it been?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben went utterly still. He didn’t even seem to be breathing. “Not long enough,” he finally said. His voice was tight, nothing like the rich sound Rey had grown accustomed to.<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snoke chuckled. “Don’t be like that, my boy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A muscle in Ben’s cheek flickered. “I’m not your boy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were once, though, weren’t you?” Snoke eyed Ben up and down, and his leer made Rey’s insides turn cold. “Kylo Ren.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben made a choked sound, then shoved off the bar and stormed away through the crowd. Rey wanted to run after him, but Snoke was still standing there, and that would definitely get her fired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older man chuckled as he watched Ben go. “He always was a sensitive one," he said. "All those big feelings, and nowhere to put them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey’s hackles rose. The possessive way Snoke was talking about Ben made her feel unclean. She’d known there was a history between the two men, but whatever this was felt much darker than a mere business rivalry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gin martini?” Rey asked through a clenched jaw, struggling with the urge to punch Snoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snoke gave her an oily smile. “Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She made him his drink, turning away so he wouldn’t see her shaking hands. “Here you go,” she said, setting it down in front of him. “On the house, as always.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He winked at her. “You learn quickly.” As he sipped, he eyed her closely. “What is your relationship with young Solo, anyway?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey didn’t want this monster having any piece of her connection with Ben. She shrugged. “He’s stopped by a few times. We chat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmmm.” Snoke eyed her up and down, and Rey felt like an insect pinned to a board under that penetrating stare. “He's always had a soft spot for the downtrodden,” he said. “Some weaknesses can’t be trained out of people. Lord knows I tried.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey clamped her jaw shut so she wouldn’t scream at Snoke. Ben wasn’t weak. As she fought the urge to defend Ben to her boss, she realized that in her heart, she knew exactly what she felt. She wanted Ben Solo, however he came. She wanted him to want her in return.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>God, she needed to get out of here and talk to Ben. Her instincts were screaming that something was deeply wrong, and the worry was twisting her gut into knots.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, Proxima showed up just then. “Snoke!” she cried, eyes darting between him and Rey. “I’m so glad Rey got you a drink. Would you like to come to the back with me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snoke held Rey’s eyes a moment longer. It felt like a challenge, so Rey stared right back at him. Finally, Snoke smirked, and his gaze slid away. “Yes,” he said. “I’d like to inspect the latest supply delivery.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey frowned as they moved off. There hadn’t been a supply delivery tonight. The bar was restocked on Tuesdays.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever. The only thing Rey cared about was finding Ben. They’d hired a new barback to collect glassware, and as Kalit set a tray of dirty glasses at the end of the bar, Rey rushed over to him. “I will pay you forty dollars if you watch the bar for me for a few minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhh…” Kalit said, looking startled. “Sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great.” Rey didn’t even mourn the lost forty dollars as she stripped off her apron and ran out from behind the bar. It was the sum of her tips so far, and the loss would sting later, but all that mattered right now was finding Ben. Making sure he was all right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And maybe, finally, telling him how she felt.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Mind the tags. This chapter contains triggering content.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rey burst out of the club into the cool night air. She’d lost precious minutes making Snoke’s drink; what if Ben was gone?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t know what his car looked like, so she jogged up the sidewalk, hoping she’d see him. The lot was full of expensive vehicles, mostly in shades of black. At the end of the row, a car sat idling, headlights shining against the brick wall of the club. Even though it was black, the Volvo S90 Hybrid stood out in a sea of Porsches, BMWs, and Mercedes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the sort of expensive but surprisingly thoughtful choice that screamed Ben Solo. Hoping it was him, Rey ran in front, shielding her eyes from the headlights, then circled to the driver’s side. Sure enough, it was Ben, head lowered and hands clenched tight around the steering wheel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey knocked on his window. Ben jumped and hit the horn, sending a blast through the parking lot. Then his eyes fixed on her, and his shoulders relaxed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey made the universal sign to roll down the window. When he complied, she gripped the sill and leaned in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben’s mouth opened and closed. His eyes darted between hers. Then he faced forward again and rested his forehead against the steering wheel. “I’m fine,” he mumbled. He was breathing hard, his broad back expanding and contracting rapidly under his suit coat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was the least convincing lie Rey had ever heard. Her stomach twisted with worry. She’d seen a fair number of people in crisis, and Ben obviously needed help.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The part of her that scrimped and saved was screaming at her to let it go and let him battle his own demons in this parking lot. But her heart was saying something different entirely.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Help him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey didn’t believe in angels or devils or anything else, so she didn’t know what creature sat on her shoulder, telling her to forget her responsibilities and her own livelihood in order to comfort Ben. All she knew was that she had to do it, consequences be damned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay here,” she ordered him. “I’ll be right back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then she was striding towards the club again, determined to make this work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Proxima wasn’t anywhere in sight, so Rey went backstage to find her. She worked to muster a believably sick face, grimacing and clutching her stomach. Finally, she found Proxima standing at the entrance of a storage room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry,” Rey said, making a muffled urping sound. “I think I have food poisoning…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Proxima spun to face Rey. Her eyes were wide, her face tight with what might have been fury or fear. “Get out of here,” she whispered, rushing towards Rey. “Before he sees.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey caught a glimpse over Proxima’s shoulder of a table piled high with bags full of white powder. Her heart skipped a beat. </span>
  <span>“I can’t do the rest of the night,” Rey said. “I’m going to puke—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care,” Proxima said, shoving her towards the backstage hallway. “Kalit can do it. Come back tomorrow. You never saw this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey nodded in agreement, then hurried out. Her mind raced as she exited the staff hallway and plunged back into the music and neon lights of Midnight Sin’s mainstage room. Everything she’d heard over the last few weeks came together in a gruesome puzzle.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s got a new shipment.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’d like to inspect the latest supply delivery.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Get out of here before he sees.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Midnight Sin was selling more than just flesh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stopped by the bar to tell Kalit he needed to cover her shift, then headed outside. The thought of those lost tips threatened to make her feigned nausea real, but there was nothing for it. Ben needed her, and even if she didn’t understand why, she had to help him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was still sitting in his car, headlights on, engine idling. He hadn’t moved since she’d left him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get out,” she told him through the lowered window. “And give me your keys.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stirred, then blinked at her like a sleepwalker waking up. “I’m sober,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your keys.” Rey held out her hand, fixing him with her sternest look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It worked. Ben muttered something, then got out of the car, handing her the keys without meeting her eyes. “I’m fine,” he said faintly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get in the passenger seat.” Rey’s tone allowed for no disobedience, and she was pleased when he moved without arguing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat down and buckled himself in, then looked at her with a mix of grief and longing. “‘I’m sorry,” he said. “You should be at work. Or at home, safe from the likes of…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Address,” she said, interrupting his panic spiral. “Now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He muttered his address, then sank into the passenger seat, head resting against the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey typed the address into his phone, which sat in a mount on the dashboard. The screen was cracked, and she trailed her fingers over the spiderwebbed glass. “What happened to it?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Threw it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She glanced over at him. His tousled hair hid his expression, but his fist was clenched in his lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I throw things, too,” Rey said as she reversed out of the parking spot. The sound of the engine was a barely-there purr. “Usually not electronics, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His house was thirty minutes away. Rey’s fingers flexed on the steering wheel as her mind raced. What should she say to him? Did he want conversation or silence? Should she ask him what was wrong?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I once threw a rock through a window,” she said as she turned onto the main road. “I ran away afterwards, but it felt very satisfying in the moment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grunted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to talk ab—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” he said harshly. “Not yet. I—I can’t. Not yet.” He tipped his head to face her, and she realized his eyes were red-rimmed and watery. “Sorry,” he whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” Rey reached out and grabbed his hand, entwining their fingers. “We’ll just be quiet for a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded and rested his head against the window again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey drove as fast as she dared. If she’d been trying the car out for real, she would have put it through its paces, but right now she was concerned about getting Ben home as quickly as possible with a minimum of police involvement. She only let go of his hand when absolutely necessary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The city slid by like dark water, flecked with reflections from streetlights and neon bar signs. A slight drizzle left spatters on the windshield and made the streets gleam. The hum of the windshield wipers was comforting, and Rey found herself matching her breathing to the slow rhythm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The city was pretty like this. It looked like the fantasy from all the songs—a place of possibility, its skyscrapers stretching towards the heavens. She’d once imagined Ben moving through this version of the city with ease, secure in his money and power. But here he was, crying in the passenger seat, trusting Rey to take him someplace safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She finally pulled into his driveway. He lived in a nice neighborhood at the base of the hills on the north end of town. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected—a high-rise condo, maybe—but it certainly wasn’t this relatively modest one-story bungalow. The front yard was carefully xeriscaped, and the front door was painted red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She parked and got out, then circled to open his door. He clambered out, unfolding those long limbs, then shuffled towards the front door. When he got there, he seemed to realize Rey still had his keys, because he looked back at her helplessly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey locked the car and hurried to hand over the keys. Ben grabbed her hand again as he fumbled to unlock the door, then tugged her in after him. He didn’t let her go as he flipped on lights, then collapsed onto a leather couch in the spartanly furnished living room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey sat next to him, unsure what to do. She tucked her knees under her and scooted closer. Feeling bold, she reached out to brush a raindrop from his forehead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I met Snoke when I was eleven,” Ben said abruptly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey stilled. They’d known each other for that long? “How—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head. “Please, let me get this out. I don’t… I don’t know if I can do it unless I just say it all at once.” He winced. “Why am I even saying it? You don’t know me, probably don’t even like me—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do like you,” she said, running her free hand through his hair soothingly. “And I want to know you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cursed under his breath. “Unfortunately, you can’t really know me unless you know this. And once you do…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I won’t blame you if you run away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t,” Rey said firmly. “Now tell me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a deep breath, then began the story. “Snoke knew my mom from the charity circuit. My mom was always doing charity stuff—she was on so many boards, my dad and I lost track of them. And she’d always drag us to these events, force us to put on suits and act like we belonged there. But I never felt like I belonged anywhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey kept petting him, running her fingers through the silky, slightly-damp locks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t think much of Snoke at first," Ben continued. "He was just one of an endless parade of old, rich guys my mom networked with. But he took an interest in me.” He grimaced. “Told my mom I had all kinds of potential, that I just needed the company of other boys my age and some firm guidance on how to be a man. I guess she’d mentioned that I was a difficult kid or something.” His voice turned bitter. “I’d have been less difficult if my parents were around more, but all they saw was the moodiness and the temper, and they believed Snoke’s bullshit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head. “At least, my mother believed it. She’d already tried to get her brother to take me under his wing, and that didn't go well. My dad didn’t love the implication that he wasn’t enough of a man to handle me, but he was gone on business all the time, anyway, so my mom just went ahead and handed me over to Snoke.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Handed you over?” Rey asked, trying to understand what that meant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He had this leadership camp for young men,” Ben said. “We were all between ten and fourteen, and we met at his house every weekend and talked about how to be brave and tough. How to present ourselves as leaders. We learned everything from tying a bow tie to how to throw a punch.” He swallowed hard. “I loved it at first. No one had ever paid that much attention to me. Knowing Snoke believed in me made me feel more confident. And we had—” Ben’s voice cracked. “We had these stupid nicknames. He called us his knights, and we got to pick the name of the man—the knight—we wanted to be. So I picked Kylo Ren, which was a character I’d made up in elementary school. When he called me Kylo, I felt like I was ten feet tall.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A chill went down Rey’s spine as she remembered the conversation with Snoke in Midnight Sin.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m not your boy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You were once, though, weren’t you... Kylo Ren?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>An awful picture was forming in her mind. Maybe it was because she’d seen so much evil in her life that she could recognize it now, in this story of a little boy going to leadership camp. Dread settled in her stomach like a stone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben was silent, working his lips between his teeth like he was trying to keep the words inside. Going on instinct, Rey climbed on top of him, settling on his lap with her knees on either side of his thighs, and cupped his face in her hands. “Look at me,” she told him softly. “Nothing you say will disgust me or make me think less of you. I’m not going anywhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His beautiful brown eyes were full of so much sadness, it made her heart ache. He swallowed, then whispered, “Are you sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey nodded. “Positive. You’re a good man, Ben Solo. I will always believe that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He closed his eyes, and his chest expanded with a deep breath. “He took us aside for individual mentoring sessions, too,” he said without opening his eyes. “And that was when…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay,” Rey told him when he trailed off. “It’s okay, Ben. You can tell me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It started with touching,” Ben said, and there it was, the horrible truth Rey had sensed was coming. “It seemed accidental at first, and then it turned more deliberate. And he told me this was something special between the two of us, and I should never tell anyone. It would be our secret.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her heart broke for him. “Oh, Ben,” she whispered, eyes welling with tears. She petted his hair, his cheeks, his shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should have said no,” he said. “I don’t know why I went with it. I was so confused—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were just a kid,” Rey said. “You are </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>to blame.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He finally opened his eyes to look at her again. His expression was agonized. “Aren’t I a little bit, though? I let him…” He swallowed hard, and more tears welled. “I let him do whatever he wanted. Did whatever he wanted in return. It was attention, and I’d never had enough of that. Looking back, he must have been doing the same thing to the other boys, but it felt like I was his favorite.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what predators do,” Rey said, leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead. “They manipulate you where you’re weakest. They twist you up inside until you can’t tell what’s right or what’s real anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should have realized,” Ben choked out. “I should have said something. But I never did. And my problems… I got worse at home. Acted out, broke things. Screamed at my parents. I didn’t know what was going on in my head: some mess of guilt and anger and loneliness and God knows what.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey wrapped her arms around him and leaned in, pressing her cheek to his shoulder. Her body lifted slightly with each of his heavy breaths. He was so solid and strong now, but he would have been tiny back then. “I’m going to rip Snoke's eyes out,” Rey told him, meaning every word. “And then I’m going to chop him up with a butcher knife.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben’s arms came around her, and he clung to her tightly. “It went on for years,” he said. “And I just kept letting it happen, because what else was I supposed to do? He was my mentor. He was teaching me how to be a man. He said he loved me." His voice broke on that word. "And I'd cry in the shower at night after seeing him, scrubbing my skin raw and wondering what was wrong with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, baby,” Rey said. “Nothing was wrong with you. You were a victim.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That feels like a word for someone who was attacked once,” he said bitterly. “Not for someone who just went along with it for fucking years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were a kid,” Rey repeated vehemently. She sat up to grab his cheeks again, willing him to see the truth in her eyes. “He’s a monster. It was not your fault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tears spiked his lashes, and his face was red and blotchy. “You know what fucks me up most?” he whispered. “Or maybe not most, because all of it fucks me up, but I can’t stop thinking about it. He stopped when I was fourteen and had a growth spurt.” More tears spilled over. “And my first thought was that he didn’t love me anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben's raw pain echoed in Rey's heart. She <em>ached</em> for him. “It was the only attention you’d been getting for years,” she said. “Of course you felt that way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t understand,” he said vehemently. “He did such awful things, and I hated it so much, but then when he stopped, it made me sad? How fucked up is that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You're right," Rey said. "I don’t understand what that felt like. But I know what it’s like to rely on someone who hurts you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” he asked, looking at her with desperation written all over his face. “You do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben had just shown her his wounded heart; if Rey needed to crack open her own ribs to comfort him, she would do it. “I was in foster care growing up,” she said. “One foster father in particular was so abusive, I eventually ran away. He’d beat me practically every night, but I was so desperate for any sort of attention that I kept trying to please him. I did all the chores, cooked him food and poured him whiskey after dinner, was a</span>
  <em>
    <span> good girl</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” The words were spoken with the bitterness of memory, an echo of Plutt backhanding her and telling her she needed to learn how to be</span>
  <em>
    <span> a good girl.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “It was only after he nearly put me in the hospital that my friend Finn finally convinced me to get away from him. Even being homeless was better than that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben looked murderous. “I’ll kill him,” he said flatly. “No one puts their hands on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s how I feel about you.” Rey leaned in and pressed her lips against his, tasting the salt of his tears. The kiss was brief, but it felt like a promise. She wasn’t sure how it had happened, but she’d signed up to care about Ben, and when Rey cared about someone, she never abandoned them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rey,” he whispered. “How can you look at me the same? Knowing what I’ve done…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Knowing what was done to you,” Rey corrected. “I look at you the same because you are the same. You’re a good, kind, wonderful man. You shouldn’t feel guilty for someone else’s sins.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed. “I’ve tried to hurt him back,” he said. “Ever since I was old enough to process what actually happened. I can’t even remember all of it—it was like my mind went away while it was happening. Those years are so fuzzy, I’m not even sure what happened in what order, even outside of what happened with Snoke.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve heard of that,” Rey said. “Disassociation. It’s normal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe, but there are times I feel crazy. Did it really happen like that? Am I just making things up?” Ben let go of her long enough to rub his hand under his eyes, wiping away tears. “I got into journalism because I wanted to expose evil people. Tell the truth of what they did. I know Snoke’s done other illegal shit, and I’ve tried so many times over the years to nail him for something, but he covers his tracks too well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey remembered those bags of white powder on the storeroom table. Her heart raced a little faster. She didn’t want to bring it up now and get Ben’s hopes up, but if she could get proof that Snoke was smuggling drugs…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish I’d told someone at the time,” Ben said sadly. “Maybe he would have gone to jail. But I was too ashamed to tell anyone, and my memories got so jumbled, who would have believed me, anyway? And now the statute of limitations is up, and it’s too late.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you ever tell your parents?” Rey asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head. “Absolutely not. It would have broken their hearts. My mom, especially, since she sent me to that camp.” He grimaced. “I barely even see them now. Our relationship never recovered from how shitty I was as a teenager.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t have been that bad,” Rey said. “All teenagers suck, and you’d just gone through a serious trauma.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s just say I’m glad juvenile records are sealed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey cocked her head, interested in this hint of a criminal past. “Ben Solo, are you saying you have a dark side?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn't funny, but Ben's lips quirked anyway. “If vandalism and arson count, then yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arson? I’ve never done that.” Rey counted her crimes off on her fingers. “Vandalism, yes. Shoplifting, yes. And I stabbed someone once when I was homeless.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gaped at her. “You stabbed someone? The worst I did was burn down my uncle’s summer house.” At Rey's wide-eyed look, he clarified. "It was empty at the time, but damn if he's ever let me forget it."<br/>
</span>
</p><p><span>“Well, the man I stabbed had a knife, too, and he was probably planning on raping me, so I thought it was best to stab first and ask questions later.” </span>The memory came to her in a series of flashes. Waking up to find someone tugging at her clothes. Moonlight on steel. Her hand moving instinctively, lashing out with the knife she never slept without. It had gone into the man's side easier than she'd thought<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">—</span></span>not deep enough to kill, but enough to make the man run off howling.</p><p>She'd never lost sleep over it. If someone tried to hurt you, they had it coming.</p><p>Snoke definitely had it coming.</p><p>
  <span>Ben scowled, then tugged her against his chest, hugging her hard enough to make the breath rush out of her. “I never want anyone to hurt you ever again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want them to, either,” Rey said. “But there’s only so much you can do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About that…” Ben nuzzled into her hair. “I know you don’t want my money. But it hurts to see you struggling, when I could help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey wiggled out of his tight grip, wanting to look him in the face while they had this discussion. “I want more than your money,” she told him frankly. “I want you, the man. Just you. And if you pay me… it feels like a transaction.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mouth opened in what looked like wonder. “You want me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey nodded. Her throat was tight, and her skin buzzed with nerves, but tonight had only cemented what she’d already known to be true. However it had happened, Ben was </span>
  <em>
    <span>hers</span>
  </em>
  <span> now. “I want to give this a try,” she said. “Us. Whatever that means.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Rey.” He kissed her, hard and fast. “Even with what I just said…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your scars are part of you,” she said. “I'm sorry you suffered, and I can hate Snoke for hurting you, but I would never hate you for being hurt. I have scars, too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rested his forehead against hers. “The night we met,” he said. “When I was such a dick. I’d just seen Snoke at a charity event.” He sighed. “I guess I’m more like my mother than I thought, because I can’t seem to stop going to those stupid things. This one was to raise funds for early childhood education. And there he was, smirking and drinking champagne like he always did, and it felt like no time had passed at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey understood then why Ben had seemed like an entirely different man that first day. Scowling and abrupt, buying himself expensive wine and sitting as high above the city as he could get. He’d needed distance from his past and his abuser, needed the reminder that he was a grown man with power of his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he’d gotten her fired by accident, and the true Ben Solo had come out. The one that protected and helped. The one who wanted justice to be served.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t see who you really were at first,” she confessed. “I assumed you were like every other rich bastard who didn’t give a shit about the little people. I’m sorry it took me so long.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve both got walls, Rey,” he said. “We’re both damaged, and we come from different worlds. I’m not going to pretend I understand everything you’re going through. But... I wish you’d let me do something. Cook you dinner. Help you with money sometimes. What Snoke did to me… I felt out of control. Worthless. But now I’m a man fortunate enough to have money and power, and I never feel better than when I’m protecting the people I care about. So please let me protect you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey took the impassioned words in. Their foreheads were still pressed together, their breath mingling. That small, humid space between them felt as close to holy as Rey had ever known.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Could she let go of her hard-won independence and let Ben take care of her? Was it possible to accept someone’s money without feeling like she was being bought? And if he cooked for her and gave her money when she needed, what could she possibly give him in exchange?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wouldn’t be fair,” she whispered. “What would you get out of it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His sigh brushed over her lips. “You, Rey. I would get the company of a strong, beautiful woman who sits in my lap and listens to my darkest secrets and doesn’t judge me for them. There are far more precious things than money.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey’s eyes welled with tears. Had anyone ever said anything so nice to her?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her entire life, she’d been forced to think of survival first and foremost. How much money was coming in and how much was going out. What wall to put her back to and where to keep her weapons. She’d thought of her body as an object or a tool, its sole purpose to keep going, despite all the signs that pointed to her life as not being worth the effort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d never learned to trust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To Ben, giving her money was on par with cooking for her. It was a way to care for her with the resources at his disposal. She could care for him, too. What she had to offer wasn’t tangible, for the most part, but having listened to Ben and held him through his grief, she realized he didn’t need any more tangible things. He had all the material wealth Rey had craved her whole life, but he’d always been alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe neither of them needed to be alone anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” she whispered. “You can take care of me. So long as I get to take care of you, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words felt terrifying and liberating all at once. Like jumping out of a plane and hoping the parachute opened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben’s entire body shuddered. Then he was cupping her face in his hands and kissing her, kissing her, kissing her. “Thank you,” he whispered against her lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey didn’t feel like she’d done anything to be thanked for, but she let him express his gratitude with fevered kisses. As intense as the kisses were, Rey knew they weren't leading anywhere sexual. Not tonight, after what he’d just revealed. Not until they could be alone with just the two of them and no ghosts in the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, he pulled back and stifled a yawn. Rey smiled fondly. He didn’t work nights like her; he must have been exhausted every time he stayed late at the bar. “Come on,” she said, sliding off his lap. “Let’s go to bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben’s bedroom was as neat as the rest of his house. Rey sighed in appreciation of the king bed and its soft black sheets. She smiled when Ben handed her a huge T-shirt, an enormous pair of flannel pants, and a brand-new toothbrush. “Use anything you need,” he said, gesturing at the bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She took him up on it, brushing her teeth thoroughly, then scrubbing her face with a lovely-smelling facewash. She used his hairbrush to work the tangles out of her hair, then padded barefoot back into the bedroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled when he saw her swimming in his T-shirt. She’d abandoned the flannel pants, which no amount of rolling at the waist had made fit. “I like this,” he said. “Seeing you in my clothes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like being in them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben was wearing boxer-briefs and a ratty black T-shirt, and Rey took a moment to appreciate the strong lines of his body. She’d never seen him casual or undone until today, and she liked it. It felt like they’d both taken off their armor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben brushed his teeth and washed his face, and then they got into bed. Before Rey could wonder about the etiquette of snuggling, Ben wrapped her in his arms. Rey absorbed the strange feeling—a warm body at her back, a strong arm at her waist, a silk-soft pillow under her cheek. She felt... safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben must have felt safe with her, too. He clutched her tight, curling his body around her like he wanted to get as close as possible. “Thank you,” he mumbled again. “My angel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was asleep soon after that, his breathing turning deep and even. Rey lay awake, processing the abrupt shift in her reality. In just a few hours, she’d learned Ben’s darkest secret, comforted him while he cried, and plunged head-first into a relationship with him. Her carefully-guarded heart had opened to let him in, and now there was no going back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was his, and he was hers. And she was going to fight with everything she had to get justice for him.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ben's background with Snoke in canon has always read like grooming to me, so I finally decided to explore the modern parallel of that.</p><p>This was deeply personal to write. If you, too, have experienced something like what Ben went through, I want to tell you that you are beautiful and strong, and your scars don't make you any less worthy of love. ❤️</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p>Rey woke gradually. Her cheek was smashed into a soft pillow, and a trail of drool had spilled from her parted lips. She wiped it off sleepily. She hadn’t slept that deeply or well in recent memory.</p><p>Her eyelids fluttered open. Ben’s bedroom was brighter than when she’d fallen asleep; the curtains were cracked slightly, and a slice of morning light fell across the bed. Rey turned over to look at Ben, but his side of the bed was empty. She blinked, surprised. She’d never been a heavy sleeper—a rough upbringing had ensured she startled awake at the slightest noise or movement. How had he gotten out of bed without waking her?</p><p>She got up and went to the bathroom to pee, wash her face, and brush her teeth. Then she wandered into the main house, wondering where her… boyfriend?... had got to.</p><p>What was her status with Ben, anyway? They were “together,” but they hadn’t progressed to heavy petting yet. They hadn’t even been on a date, and Rey was pretty sure that was supposed to come before formalizing a relationship.</p><p>She found him in the kitchen, scrambling eggs in his boxer-briefs and T-shirt. The scent of bacon and coffee permeated the room, and Rey inhaled deeply, savoring it.</p><p>Ben looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Good morning.”</p><p>“Morning,” she said, moving closer to wrap her arms around his waist from behind. She rested her cheek against his upper back, enjoying his warmth and the steady rise and fall of his breathing. “How are you feeling?”</p><p>“Surprisingly good,” he said, moving the pan from the burner and turning in her arms to face her. He smiled and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “How did you sleep, sweetheart?”</p><p><em> Sweetheart. </em>Rey had never been called an endearment like that before. Then again, she’d never actually been in a relationship before. “Really well,” she said. “Better than I have in ages.”</p><p>His smile expanded into a grin. “You’re cute when you sleep. I mean, you’re cute all the time, but you make these little noises, and you kept burrowing into my side.”</p><p>Her cheeks heated. “Did I wake you up too much? I’ve never actually slept next to someone before.”</p><p>“Never?” He looked surprised.</p><p>“I mean, I slept next to friends on the street for safety, but that seems different, you know?”</p><p>His expression softened. “I’m glad you trusted me enough to sleep next to me. And no, you didn’t wake me up too much.”</p><p>“Good.” Rey felt suddenly shy about this conversation, so she leaned to the side to look at the stove. “You made breakfast?”</p><p>“Oh!” He moved to grab the pan, and Rey reluctantly let go of his waist. “Have a seat,” he said, nodding at the kitchen island. “How do you like your coffee?”</p><p>“So long as it gets the job done, I don’t care.” Rey hopped up on one of the stools.</p><p>He shook his head. “Blasphemy. Making good coffee is an art form.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes. “It all tastes like mud anyway.”</p><p>He pointed a spatula at her. “See if you still think that after you try mine.”</p><p>Rey bit her lip, smiling as she watched him putter around the kitchen. He filled a plate with eggs and bacon and set it in front of her, then grabbed two mugs and filled them with coffee from a fancy-looking glass pitcher.</p><p>“Here,” he said, sliding a black mug towards her. “Tell me that isn’t the best coffee you’ve ever had.”</p><p>This cheerfully domestic Ben Solo was one she hadn’t seen yet, and Rey was so charmed, it was hard to tear her eyes away from him, even with a full breakfast sitting in front of her. She slid a forkful of eggs into her mouth, then made an appreciative noise. “These eggs are really good,” she said through a mouthful.</p><p>“I added spring onions from the garden, cheese, pepper, salt, some Italian seasoning, and whipped them with milk.” He settled on the stool next to her with his own plate. “The bacon is from a local butcher shop.”</p><p>Rey groaned as she sank her teeth into a thick, perfectly cooked piece of bacon. “I can’t remember eating something this good,” she said. “You should have been the head chef at First Order.”</p><p>He shook his head. “It’s just scrambled eggs and bacon.”</p><p>“There’s no ‘just’ about it.” Rey set the fork down so she could rest a hand on his forearm. “You made food for me.” She was so touched by the gesture, she didn’t have words to express it. Rey survived on the cheapest food she could get, and here Ben was, not just feeding her expensive food, but cooking it for her. She felt like she should apologize for making him go to so much effort on her behalf, but she remembered what he’d said last night: <em> I never feel better than when I’m protecting the people I care about. </em></p><p>For reasons she still didn’t understand, Ben cared about her. Cooking her eggs was his way of showing that.</p><p>He smiled, then tucked into his own breakfast. Rey scarfed down the remaining eggs and bacon quickly. When she sipped the coffee, her eyebrows shot up. “Huh.”</p><p>“Good, right?” Ben asked.</p><p>Rey swished the coffee around in her mouth. “It still tastes muddy, but not in a bad way? Maybe a little grassy?”</p><p>“I told you,” Ben said smugly. “Most coffee served at restaurants is swill.”</p><p>“What about gas station coffee?” Rey asked, enjoying teasing him. “That’s usually what I get.”</p><p>He shuddered. “Please never say the words ‘gas station coffee’ ever again.”</p><p>Rey laughed. God, this felt good. Joking with someone over a hearty breakfast. Feeling cared for and appreciated. Was this what she’d been so afraid of? She’d thought being with a man would make her vulnerable; instead, she felt safe.</p><p>After breakfast, Rey rinsed the plates and put them in the dishwasher, despite Ben’s protests that he was capable of cleaning up. Then she settled on the living room couch and held her arms out. He joined her quickly, snuggling up next to her and wrapping her in his arms.</p><p>“Thank you,” she said softly. “For an amazing morning, and for telling me all that stuff last night. You’re very brave.”</p><p>He rubbed his cheek against the top of her head. “I don’t always feel brave,” he said. “But this morning… it’s like talking about it made me feel fifty pounds lighter.”</p><p>“You can trust me,” Rey said. “Maybe it’s crazy, since we’ve only known each other for a short time, but I feel…” She trailed off, trying to figure out how to say it.</p><p>He squeezed her tighter. “What do you feel?”’</p><p>Rey could hear the mixed hope and fear in his voice. He still wasn’t sure of where they stood. Rey wasn’t, either. “A connection,” she said. “Like we… fit together.” She shook her head. “That probably sounds stupid.”</p><p>“It doesn’t.” He kissed the side of her head. “I feel it, too.”</p><p>Rey took a deep breath. She’d been the one pumping the brakes on getting to know him all this time; she owed it to him to be the one to push them to the next step. “Are we… dating, then? Exclusively?”</p><p>When she peeked up at his face, she found him grinning. “Yeah,” he said. “I’d really like that.”</p><p>“Okay.” Rey blew out a breath as the agreement settled into place. This was happening. “We’re dating."</p><p>Ben cupped her cheek and tilted her face up so he could kiss her. This kiss was soft and slow: the sealing of a promise. Rey kissed him back, marveling in the knowledge that she could kiss him whenever and however she wanted. They had <em> time </em>—never a resource she’d had in abundance.</p><p>“I have to be at the shop in an hour,” Rey said against his lips. “It’s twenty minutes away.”</p><p>“Mmm.” Ben kissed her again, sucking on her lower lip. “So you’re telling me we have forty minutes?”</p><p>Rey considered the situation. She <em> should </em> drive home and grab new clothes, but that would mean leaving almost immediately. There was a spare T-shirt and a ratty pair of jeans in her locker at Plutt’s, and she could always rewear her slutty bartender outfit tonight…</p><p>“Yeah,” she said. “We have forty minutes.”</p><p>“Then let’s make the most of it,” Ben said, pulling her onto his lap.</p><p>Rey straddled him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She was only wearing his T-shirt and a pair of plain cotton underwear, and when she settled onto him, she felt the bulge of his erection pressing against her core. She rocked her hips, rolling over that rapidly growing length.</p><p>Ben’s hands landed on her ass. He guided her movements, pressing her harder against him. Their mouths fused once more, and the kiss grew hot and hungry. Rey licked and sucked at him, loving the soft, throaty noises he made as their bodies worked together. She found the perfect angle to rub her clit against his cock, and she gasped as pleasure built between her legs.</p><p>“That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured as she ground against him. His hands were tight on her hips under the baggy shirt, his fingers digging into her skin. “Ride me.”</p><p>Rey needed to get closer to him, so she paused to strip off his shirt. Her cunt clenched at the sight of his pale, chiseled torso. “Wow,” she said, trailing her hands over his pecs, then tracing the groove between his abdominal muscles. “Holy hell, how often do you work out?”</p><p>He was clearly trying—and failing—to hide a cocky grin. “Almost every day,” he said, flexing those muscles.</p><p>“Mmm.” Rey wanted to lick every inch of him. She planned to, but right now the ache between her thighs demanded something else. She stripped off her shirt, then started to rock her hips again.</p><p>Ben stared at her breasts with awe. “Fuck,” he said, letting go of her hips so he could cover her breasts with his massive hands. “You’re gorgeous.”</p><p>Rey had never felt particularly beautiful, but Ben was looking at her like he’d died and gone to heaven. She felt beautiful, sexy... <em> powerful. </em> As Rey’s hips rolled, Ben kneaded her breasts, then leaned in to suck a nipple into his mouth.</p><p>Rey gasped and sank her hands into his hair. The way he sucked on her was so good, it ought to be illegal. He tugged on the sensitive nipple rhythmically, then traced his tongue around the tight bud, then took it gently between his teeth. Hot, electric pleasure shot from her breast to her pussy, and Rey whimpered as he sucked even harder.</p><p>“Such gorgeous breasts,” he breathed. He switched to the other side, nibbling around the nipple. “You’re a dream come true.”</p><p>“Ben,” Rey said. Her voice hitched in the middle of his name. “God, you’re so good…”</p><p>Ben groaned, and his hips jerked up against her. Sensing that she’d stumbled across something he liked, Rey kept going. “You’re so strong and handsome,” she said, which earned her another twitch of his hips. “And your fucking mouth… oh my God, it feels so good. <em> You </em>make me feel good.”</p><p>“Rey, Rey…” Ben grabbed her ass again, pulling her hard against his erection. Rey rocked over him faster, chasing the pleasure she could feel building in her core. Ben kept sucking and licking at her breasts, his kisses turning desperate. When her nipple popped out of his mouth, it was red and swollen, wet from his tongue.</p><p>“So good,” Rey repeated. “You’re amazing.”</p><p>“Jesus,” Ben said, head tipping back against the couch. His hips bucked up under her, matching her rhythm. “If you’re not careful, I’m going to come.”</p><p>She grabbed his cheeks and kissed him. “I want you to come,” she said. “I want you to get both of us all messy. I want to go to work with your cum still drying on my skin.”</p><p>He groaned. “Fuck, Rey.”</p><p>Rey reached between them, finding the slit at the front of his boxer-briefs. She reached in and pulled his cock out. “Holy shit,” she said, staring at it with delight. His cock was thick and long, with prominent veins she wanted to drag her tongue over. Rey swirled her thumb over the tip, smearing pre-cum over the broad cap. “You’re seriously hung.”</p><p>Ben let out a strained chuckle. “You say the nicest things. And fair’s only fair.” His fingers inched towards the edge of her underwear. “I want to touch you, too.”</p><p>Rey lifted up on her knees to give him room. With one hand, he tugged the gusset of her panties aside, and then his fingers were sliding between her labia. Rey panted as he played with her, fingers moving from her soaked entrance to her clit and back.</p><p>“So wet,” he said. He lifted his fingers to his mouth and licked, staring at her with dark, intense eyes. “And sweet,” he said once he’d sucked the digit clean. “I’m going to eat you out for hours.”</p><p>Rey nearly lost it at the earnest promise. “Later,” she gasped. “Right now I need… I need…”</p><p>“Take it,” he said, rubbing her clit in a tight circle with his thumb. “Whatever you need, take it.”</p><p>Rey moaned, then brushed his hand away from her pussy. It was good, but she needed to feel more of him. She grabbed his cock and rubbed the tip against her clit.</p><p>Ben made a rough sound and grabbed her hips again. “Yes,” he hissed. “Use me to get off.”</p><p>The underwear was just getting in the way, so Rey tipped to the side to shimmy her panties down. Ben tore his boxer-briefs off as well, and then they were pressed together again, skin to skin from their lips to where his cock met her wet cunt.</p><p>Rey angled his erection up toward his belly so she could slide over the underside of it. The thick column spread her labia, pressing against her soaked pussy, and she took a long ride up and down, rubbing herself over every inch of him. She watched the movement, loving the way his erection gleamed with her wetness. They weren’t even having sex yet, and it was already the hottest thing Rey had ever experienced.</p><p>“Fuck!” Ben’s head tipped back again, and his eyes closed. “Just like that,” he choked out. “Ride me until you come.”</p><p>Rey moved faster, slicking his cock up until the slide was messy and effortless. The flared cap caught her clit perfectly on each upstroke, and soon Rey was whimpering and writhing in his lap, her steady rhythm faltering as her body tensed in readiness for the oncoming orgasm.</p><p>Ben was now watching her intently. His cheeks were flushed, and his pupils were so wide his eyes looked black. “Come on,” he said, holding her tight and grinding against her clit. “Come for me, baby.”</p><p>“I’m going to… going to…” The pleasure sharpened into an almost unbearable sensation, and then a rush of heat flooded from her clit outward. Her cunt spasmed rhythmically, and Rey jerked and cried out as the orgasm washed over her. She said his name over and over. “Ben, Ben, <em> Ben </em>…”</p><p>“Shit, shit, shit,” he said, his own mantra as his hips pumped in a hard, rough rhythm. Then he shouted, and Rey felt the hot rush of cum pumping out between them. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him as he twitched and trembled under her.</p><p>She rocked softly against him until he nudged at her hips. “Sensitive,” he gasped.</p><p>Rey flopped back onto the couch at his side, burying her face in his firm pectoral. He smelled heavenly—woodsy and musky, with an undertone of sharp male sweat. She smiled at the sight of his softening cock and the cum smeared over his ridged abdomen. <em> She </em> had done that. She’d made big, powerful Ben Solo come so hard he shouted.</p><p>He traced patterns over her back. “That was amazing,” he said. “I love seeing you come.”</p><p>“Me, too,” she said, mouthing at his skin. “You’re so hot.”</p><p>His chuckle sounded embarrassed. “If you say so…”</p><p>“Ben.” She sat upright to stare at him. “You’re fucking gorgeous. Surely you must know this.”</p><p>His cheeks were still pink. He smiled bashfully and ran a hand through his hair. “I always thought the nose was a little wonky, and my chin…”</p><p>“Is perfect.” Rey silenced him with a kiss. “You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.”</p><p>He kissed her back, long and lingering. Rey’s stomach swooped. She was bursting with giddy, dizzying feelings. She wanted to laugh and cry and fuck Ben’s brains out all at once.</p><p>“You’re amazing,” he whispered. “I never want to let you go.”</p><p>And oh, what heady, dangerous words those were. Because if there was one thing Rey had wanted to hear her entire life, it was that. <em> You’re safe. I have you. I will never let you go. </em></p><p>Overwhelmed by the churning need and want filling her up, Rey drew back from the kiss. “Unfortunately,” she said, struggling to sound light and not at all like the love-starved, clingy, obsessive person she was rapidly turning into, “I do have to head to work today.”</p><p>“I know.” Ben’s forehead furrowed. “Are you going to both jobs?”</p><p>She nodded. “I’m quitting Midnight Sin,” she said, wanting him to know she valued his well-being over that paycheck. It would be tough, but she would figure something out. “I need to do it in person, though.” Truthfully, she could quit over the phone—she wouldn’t be getting a reference either way—but she had other business she needed to take care of tonight. The kind of business that would only make Ben worry if he found out about it.</p><p>“I hate the idea of him anywhere near you,” he said.</p><p>“It’s just one night.”</p><p>“And then it’ll be over? You won’t go back?” The questions were followed by a wince. “Never mind. You shouldn’t quit if you don’t want to. I don’t want to mess with your employment.”</p><p>“Ben,” she said firmly. “I refuse to work for your abuser. I’m quitting, and that’s final.”</p><p>He looked at her with such heartbreaking gratitude, Rey got angry all over again at everyone who had ignored, neglected, or mistreated him. “Thank you,” he whispered. “If you’ll let me, I can help with rent. Until you find another job. Or even if you don’t want a second job,” he said, words tumbling over each other. “Anything you need.”</p><p>The idea was uncomfortable, but if there was only one ethical choice in this situation—quitting—there was also only one practical choice. “All right,” she said. “You can help me with rent.”</p><p>His face relaxed, and he smiled, looking so happy it made Rey’s heart squeeze. “Thank you,” he said. “For letting me care for you.”</p><p>“It’s going to be hard to adjust to,” Rey said honestly. “But I’m going to try. If it makes you happy.”</p><p>“It does,” he said. “Knowing you’re safe… that’s the best feeling in the world.” He looked over at the clock, then sighed. “I want to be selfish and keep you here, but I know you have to go to work. I’ll drive you to your car.”</p><p>“Thanks.” She kissed him again before standing up and stretching. “And tonight, after work…”</p><p>“Will you come back?” Ben asked hopefully.</p><p>“I will. I’ll have to grab some stuff from home, though.”</p><p>“I’ll wait up for you,” he vowed.</p><p>Rey smiled as she headed to the bathroom to wipe the cum off her stomach—most of it, anyway, because she hadn’t been lying about wanting a souvenir—and change into yesterday’s clothes. She couldn’t wait to see Ben again, and not just because she was drunk on his kisses and desperate to get her hands on him. Tonight, she was going to pay him back for all his care with the best gift she could think of.</p><p>She was going to get proof that Snoke was trafficking drugs.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The people voted, and they asked for smut before things get stressful again. So here it is. A little smut, as a treat. ❤️ Thank you for reading and commenting!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the long hiatus! Life has been busy, and I'm working on a novel. Hopefully the next update comes much quicker.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rey was driving between Plutt’s and Midnight Sin when she realized she should probably tell someone what she was doing that night. </span>
  <span>She balanced her phone in her lap, dialed, and put it on speaker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose’s sweet, familiar voice made Rey smile. “Hey, babe,” she said. “We haven’t talked much lately.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right?” Rose exclaimed. “But you’ve been slammed with work, and I’ve been…” Rose trailed off, and Rey winced in sympathy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know. How’s Paige?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The same.” Rose sighed. “Well, not really the same, but I don’t want to think about it right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Understood. But whenever you do want to think about it or talk about it... I’m here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. But right now, I want to hear about you. What’s new?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey put her blinker on and edged into the intersection. “Well, to start… I have a boyfriend? I guess?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose’s shriek was ear-splitting even though it was coming out of the speaker. “Bitch, <em>what?</em> Who is he?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey gave her the condensed version of events—minus Ben’s confessions and their hot grinding session last night. Some things were just for them, like the way he’d kissed her this morning when he’d dropped her off at her car. His eyes had been screwed tightly shut, and he’d held her like he was afraid she might disappear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow,” Rose said when Rey finished. “You managed to find a hot, sensitive, rich dude who doesn’t even like strip clubs… at a strip club? Are you sure he’s real?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Rose, I’m sure.” Rey nibbled her lip. She was only a few blocks away from Midnight Sin, and she wasn’t sure how Rose would take what she was about to say. “So, he’s been trying to take down this crime lord for ages, and he needs evidence to do it. And I just found out that the crime lord is my boss.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rey.” Rose’s tone switched instantly to the stern and worried combination she took on when one of her friends was about to do something idiotic. “Tell me you aren’t going to get involved.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, actually…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Rose shouted. “Is Ben fucking asking you to do this? If so, you should dump his ass </span>
  <em>
    <span>yesterday.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no,” Rey hurried to reassure her. “He has no idea I’m doing this. I just figure… wouldn’t it be a nice gift? A way to show him I care?” Ben might think Rey herself was gift enough, but the urge to offer him something more was overwhelming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, exactly, are you planning to do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey was glad they weren’t face-to-face, because Rose sounded a bit terrifying. “I’m just going to take some pictures with my phone,” she explained. “Get evidence of Snoke trafficking cocaine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cocaine?! Rey, no! Just call the cops.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But what if they’re on his payroll? What if he cleans everything up before they get there?” She turned into the parking lot of Midnight Sin. “I overheard Proxima say there’s going to be a second shipment tonight. I need evidence before going to the police.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you don’t,” Rose said. “Ben has investigative journalists on his payroll. He doesn’t need you, someone with no training and way too much to lose, to risk your fucking life so he can publish a stupid story."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s more than that,” Rey said. “I can’t explain why, but there’s stuff you don’t know. And Ben’s giving me so much—I have to give him something in return.” Emotional support was all well and good, but if it was in Rey’s power to give Ben the thing he’d craved for nearly twenty years—justice—then she would do anything to make it happen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t owe him your life,” Rose snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be careful.” Rey pulled into a spot. “Look, Rose, I’m just giving you a heads up. If you don’t hear from me in three hours, feel free to call the police.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rey, no—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey hung up. When Rose immediately called her back, she put the phone on silent. She’d decided her path, and nothing would stop her from seeing it through to the end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>#</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Proxima eyed her wrinkled blouse skeptically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Laundry day,” Rey explained, tugging at the hem until the neckline inched low enough to show off the top of her black bra. “I couldn’t wash it last night because of the food poisoning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guys at the garage hadn’t noticed her slutty club attire when she’d first walked in, since she’d snagged one of Ben’s leather jackets to cover up. The jacket had hung in her locker all day, and periodically during her shift, she’d visited it to take a sniff. The earthy scent of leather mixed with Ben’s cologne to form an intoxicating blend. She’d originally intended to return it to him, but now she wasn’t sure she’d be able to part with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Proxima shook her head. “Don’t let it happen again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hi, how are you, are you done puking your guts out? </span>
  </em>
  <span>That was more than fine by Rey. It saved her having to lie and Proxima having to pretend she cared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Proxima looked as elegant as ever in a draping red gown, but she seemed off. Her eyes darted between the back and the entrance, and her face was tight with worry. Rey knew exactly why—the shipment that was due to arrive soon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The club was packed, and the bar was busier than ever. Rey made drinks as fast as she could. Knowing it was her last night made it easier to shrug off the asshole comments and unwelcome propositions. Any time she felt the urge to curse someone out or chuck a drink in their face, she thought about Ben. The warmth of his body, the light of his smile, the way he looked cooking eggs for her. He was the best thing that had happened to her for a long time, maybe ever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Around 11pm, Snoke walked in the door. Rey’s pulse jumped into overdrive as he walked up to the bar, dressed in his usual gold suit. Black, seething hatred filled her heart. This man had hurt Ben. She wanted to gut him, torture him, make him pay for what he’d done. It took every ounce of control to smile at the monster as he approached.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gin martini coming right up,” she said, focusing on his forehead so she wouldn’t have to look into those cold blue eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’s Ben?” he asked, planting one hand on the bar and leaning in. His fingers were long and spindly, the joints bulbous, and Rey shivered in disgust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would I know?” she said as lightly as she could manage. This monster didn’t deserve to even speak Ben’s name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snoke clicked his tongue. “You seemed… close,” he said, filling the word with innuendo. “And security tells me you left with him last night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He offered me a ride,” Rey said as she rattled the cocktail shaker. Her stomach rioted with agitated nerves. “I was sick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You looked fine when I saw you.” He leaned even closer, breath wafting over her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes flicked up to his at that. He was studying her intensely, as if trying to solve a puzzle. “Food poisoning,” Rey said. “It hit right after I saw you.” She angled her body away as she poured the drink into a chilled glass for him. “Here you are, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stepped back as he reached for it, and he smirked at the small movement. “Did you fuck him?” he asked casually as he lifted the glass to his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey’s fists clenched at her sides. She wanted to break a glass and stab him in the throat with it. <em>None of your fucking business</em>. “No," she said flatly.<br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged. “A pity. He’s a good lay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey had never felt this angry in her life. Her body was hot with it, her stomach so tight she might vomit. Her nails dug into her palms as she resisted the urge to leap over the bar and strangle him. And Snoke just watched her, that slight smirk on his face like he knew what she was contemplating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey had seen many types of evil growing up, but she'd never seen anything as foul as this man who paraded his crimes in front of her, confident that he was untouchable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t. Rey would make sure of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enjoy your evening,” Rey said, squeezing the words out through a tight throat. She knew her hatred was written on her face, but it was taking everything she had not to strike him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, Proxima showed up then, cooing at Snoke and taking his arm to lead him towards the back. Snoke’s eyes stayed on Rey’s for a few more excruciating seconds before sliding away to focus on the other pieces of his empire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey took a deep, shuddering breath when he disappeared into the back. She gripped the edge of the bar, head dropped as she struggled to regain control of herself. She’d never wanted to kill another human being before, but she imagined it now. Stabbing Snoke. Shooting him. Choking him with her bare hands. He would bleed out in front of her, and she would feel nothing but triumph.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll take him down, Ben,” she whispered. “For you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>#</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey took her break shortly afterwards, heading into the back. She bypassed the break room, though, walking down the hall towards the storage room. Her heart raced as she slipped into a utility closet, cracking the door just enough to see the entrance. Voices sounded from the storage room, then the sound of boxes being shifted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey needed to get into that room. How, though?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes snagged on a red box on the wall nearby, and she slipped out of the closet. </span>
  <em>
    <span>FIRE - Pull down</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She took a deep breath, then pulled the fire alarm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The alarm blared as she sprinted back to the utility closet. She’d just made it inside when Proxima rushed out of the storage room, heels tapping over the floor. “Shit!” the manager said. She looked over her shoulder. “I need to check on the main floor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snoke stepped out after her. “I’ll go with you,” he said. “I don’t like the timing of this.” His hand slid inside his suit jacket, and he pulled out a gun. “Hurry up,” he called over his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A chill raced down Rey’s spine. Fuck, what had she gotten herself into?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was too late to back down. As soon as Proxima and Snoke left, Rey slipped out of the utility closet. Her phone was in her hand, camera app open and ready to take pictures. She crept to the doorway. At this angle, she could see the edge of the table piled high with bags of white powder, and she snapped a few pictures. A man moved into view, placing another brick on the table. Rey flattened her back against the wall, heart hammering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Any more in the truck?” the man called over the alarm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” a second voice answered. “Come help me out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey heard footsteps moving away. Taking a deep breath, she peeked around the doorframe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The metal rolltop door had been pulled up, and a large van was backed up to it, doors open. Dark figures moved inside. Rey snapped more pictures, then darted into the room itself. She knew the layout well from their normal supply deliveries, and she slipped into the narrow space behind a pile of boxes containing extra glassware. She would just hide in the corner until the delivery was over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hid just in time. One of the men came back in, carrying a box. Rey took photo after photo, documenting as he piled more bricks of cocaine on the table. His accomplice came in and started weighing the bricks, making notes as he did so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The alarm cut off, and Rey was suddenly aware of every small noise in the quiet room. The shuffle of footsteps, the scratch of a pen. Her own breathing sounded loud to her ears, and she prayed they couldn’t hear it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The click of heels announced Proxima’s return, and Rey shrank back against the wall. This corner was dimly lit and piled high with crates and boxes, but the club manager had eagle eyes from years watching the floor. She was scowling as she walked in. “Someone pulled the fire alarm,” she said. “Evacuated the whole fucking club for nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snoke entered after her. “Are you done?” he asked the men.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey started recording video, holding the phone out just enough to expose the lens. She watched the scene play out on the screen. Her hands trembled, and the video wobbled. She was so scared she felt faint, her breathing coming in jagged chops despite her attempts to slow it. Snoke no longer held the gun, but Rey knew it was there, tucked into his gold suit coat. If he caught her…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey had spent her entire life doing whatever it took to survive. She hadn’t always known why, but right now, she knew exactly why she didn’t want to die. For the first time, she could see a future beyond the next paycheck. And now that she had so much to live for, she was risking it all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep,” one of the men grunted. “Got it all stacked up and weighed. Exactly as promised.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” Snoke’s smirk tugged at his facial scar. “Let’s hope this supplier stays reliable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Proxima shook her head. “I still don’t like having this much product in the club. What if one of the employees stumbles across it and calls the police?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then that employee will have an unfortunate accident,” Snoke said in a voice so cold it made Rey shiver. “Besides, the police chief is on my payroll.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are the prosecutors, too?” Proxima asked. “The judges?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But not all.” She pressed her lips together, looking worried. “It was fine when the operation was small-scale, but we’re growing more rapidly than I’m comfortable with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t give a shit about your comfort,” Snoke snapped. “You’re no better than your whores, and just like them, you’ll keep your mouth shut and do as you’re told.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Proxima flinched. “Yes, sir,” she said softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The shipment’s only here overnight,” he said, running his fingers over a brick. “I have buyers stopping by first thing in the morning.” He smirked at her. “One of them is the city prosecutor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The news didn’t surprise Rey, but it did make her angry. This was why poor people couldn’t get anywhere in this city. Private business was tangled with government, and the people at the top were as corrupt as they were wealthy. They used all that power and wealth for one purpose—to gain even more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What were the little people supposed to do, the ones who toiled and slaved trying to earn enough to eat? When every waking moment was dedicated to survival, how were they supposed to take on this level of corruption?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gripped the phone tighter, looking at Snoke’s face in the frame. The phone was barely peeking out from behind the boxes—a narrow view, but enough to damn Snoke and the police chief and the fucking city prosecutor if she could get the video into Ben’s hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This</span>
  </em>
  <span> was what she could do to fight corruption—not just for Ben, but for people like her. The unseen and unheard people that rich fucks like Snoke used and threw away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right, let’s wrap this up,” Snoke said. “Get that truck out of here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of the rolltop door closing was followed by the hum of the van’s engine starting. Rey held her breath and waited for Snoke and Proxima to leave, but they stayed at the table. Snoke was studying Proxima intently. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier that Solo had become a regular?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Proxima shrugged. “I didn’t think it mattered. He was just here to talk to the bartender.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rey.” Snoke rolled her name over his tongue, drawing it out, and Rey shivered. “A very interesting girl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not very,” Proxima said dismissively. “She’s shit at customer service, and I was only keeping her on for the earning potential while she had Solo on the hook. He hasn’t been around as much. He’s probably done with her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snoke huffed. “Unlikely. He’s a persistent fucker.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why does it matter if he comes here?” Proxima asked. “He isn’t a buyer, is he?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snoke laughed. “Ben Solo, buying cocaine? Maybe a decade ago, but he’s been on the straight and narrow for years now.” He said the words with scorn, and Rey’s fingers itched with the urge to choke him. “And it matters,” Snoke continued, “because he’s been trying to get dirt on me for years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More reason to move the operation out of the club,” Proxima said. “Take it somewhere neutral.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snoke backhanded her, and Rey stifled a gasp. “I told you to fucking shut your mouth and do what you’re told,” he said as Proxima cradled her cheek. “And I’m going to take care of Solo. Maybe I’ll use that pretty little bartender to do it—he can’t resist a damsel in distress.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And then what?” Proxima mumbled. Her shoulders were hunched, and she angled her body away from Snoke, still cupping her bruised cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snoke smiled again, the expression oily and disturbing. “Then I put a bullet through his head the way I should have a long time ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey sucked in a shocked breath. Too late, she clapped a hand over her mouth, hoping they hadn’t heard the noise. But Snoke’s head had snapped towards the tower of boxes she hid behind, and, oh God, he was heading towards her…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey hurriedly stuffed the phone into the side of her bra so he wouldn’t see it. Then she braced herself, hands raised and ready for a fight. She wasn’t going to win, but damn if she wouldn’t take a chunk of Snoke with her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The box in front of her face was ripped away and tossed aside. She flinched as Snoke’s cold blue eyes pinned her in place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, well,” he said. “What do we have here?”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    
  </p>
</div><p>
  <span>As Rey stared at Snoke’s scarred face, she felt like she was looking at her own death. Her fate was written in Snoke’s malicious expression and icy eyes. A gunshot to the head, probably. The gun was in his hand, though he wasn’t aiming it at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sign that he didn’t consider her a threat stung.</span>
  <em>
    <span> I’ve stabbed a man,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Rey wanted to scream at him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I would chop off your dick if I could.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck are you doing here?” Proxima asked. She looked furious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, what are you doing here?” Snoke asked, idly wagging the gun. “Spying, clearly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no point hiding behind the boxes anymore, and Rey wanted space to fight, so she edged out into the room. Snoke pivoted to counter her, and now the gun was aimed right at her chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to know what happens back here,” Rey said. If she was going down, there was no way she was bringing Ben with her. “I heard Proxima talk about a shipment, but I knew there was nothing scheduled.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Proxima stepped forward and slapped Rey. The attack was unexpected, and Rey staggered back, her cheek burning. She was hyper-aware of the slight weight in her boot. Though her fingers itched to pull out the switchblade she’d tucked into her sock, she needed to wait for the perfect moment. She tried to look small and defenseless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fucking bitch,” Proxima spat. “I’d fire you, but you’re about to be dumped in the river.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snoke chuckled. “Oh, no need for the river. A pathetic piece like this<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">—</span></span>no one would question if she blew her brains out in an alley.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you seen CSI?” Rey asked, her voice shaking despite her desire to be calm and collected. “If you shoot me, it’s going to be obvious someone else did it.” Giving her murderer advice wasn’t ideal, but Rey’s sole tactic right now was to stall and keep Snoke from pulling that trigger until she found the opportunity to stab him. It was an impossible hope, one chance in a million, but it was all she had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you’ll want to die,” Snoke said. His finger caressed the trigger. “Maybe you’ll choose to once I’m done with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dread wrapped cold fingers around Rey’s inner organs. This wouldn’t be a quick death, after all. Snoke was going to make it hurt. “You’re a monster,” she spat. “Do your allies know you rape children?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Proxima’s head snapped towards Snoke, and her widened eyes told Rey the manager hadn’t known that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What proof do you have?” Snoke asked. The gun remained fixed on Rey’s heart. “Sounds like a nasty rumor to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey opened her mouth, then hesitated. She didn’t want to implicate Ben. “I’ve heard things,” she said. “Rumors about your leadership camp.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snoke chuckled. “You must have heard that from Ben Solo. He’ll say anything if he thinks it’ll send me to jail.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should be in jail,” Rey snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jail is for the stupid and the poor,” Snoke said. “I have the best lawyers in the city. I’m untouchable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wouldn’t be untouchable for long if Rey managed to draw her knife without getting shot. She burned to do it, but the black eye of Snoke’s gun held her frozen in place. It was pointed straight at the heart that was just learning to beat with hope.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did Solo ask you to do this?” Snoke asked. “Did he tell you to risk your pretty neck to take me down?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey lifted her chin. “No,” she said. “Ben has far more important things to focus on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rage flashed over Snoke’s face. He must not have liked being dismissed. “I wonder how he’ll feel when he sees your body.” His mouth twisted in a sneer. “Maybe I’ll leave you on his doorstep as a present. Think he’ll like that? Seeing your brains spattered across the sidewalk?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey’s stomach churned at the gruesome threat. The sight would</span>
  <em>
    <span> break</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ben. Guilt mixed with her terror. She’d thought she could help Ben, and now she was becoming one more tool Snoke could use to terrorize him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Proxima shifted, eyeing the door. “We should wrap this up quickly,” she said. “Before anyone comes looking for her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snoke scoffed. “Like anyone cares where she is.” There was nothing but contempt in his ice-blue eyes. “You’re a nobody, aren’t you, Rey? A gutter rat who never amounted to anything. Will anyone even miss you when you’re gone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words were an arrow to Rey’s heart. It was her deepest fear, sprung from her greatest trauma. Growing up, no one had loved her. No one had</span>
  <em>
    <span> wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span> her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As despair yawned black and cold in her chest, Rey struggled to remember the good in her life, the few people she’d clung to like life rafts in the storm of a hard, merciless world. Rose. Finn. And now Ben. “They’ll miss me,” she whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snoke laughed. It was a hard, ugly sound. “You don’t matter, Rey. You never will.” He stepped towards her, and Rey backed up. “Oh, don’t run,” he crooned. “We’re going to have so much fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was positioning himself between her and the door, stalking towards her until she had no choice but to back closer to the wall. Snoke’s free hand dipped into his suit pocket, and he pulled out a small, wickedly curved blade. “I think I’ll slice you up a bit first,” he said. “If I’m dumping you at Ben’s house, I might as well send a real message.” He smiled. “I bet you scream nicely. Unfortunately for you, the walls are soundproofed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Proxima looked unsettled. She shifted on her high heels, glancing between Rey and Snoke. “Snoke…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” he asked, not taking his eyes off Rey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey held her breath, praying that Proxima would say something, anything, that might halt the upcoming horror.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to go back to work,” she said, and Rey’s stomach plummeted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really want to work for this monster?” Rey asked, voice shaking. “You want to just go back on the floor and pretend he isn’t torturing and murdering someone in your club?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snoke chuckled. “Believe me, girl, it isn’t the first time. And Proxima’s smart enough to know when to keep her mouth shut<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">—</span></span>aren’t you, darling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Proxima bowed her head. “Yes, sir.” She was quivering, the rhinestone embellishments on her dress winking in the harsh fluorescent light. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Run along, then,” Snoke said. “Don’t let anyone else back here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Proxima’s heels clicked as she hurried towards the door. Rey watched her go, knowing her last chance at salvation was walking away. The phone was still recording in her bra<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">—</span></span>it would pick up her screams, a silent witness to the end of a short and unimportant life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Rey would go down fighting. She shifted her weight, preparing to reach into her sock and pull out the switchblade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Proxima opened the door<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">—</span></span></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get on the ground! Get on the ground right now!” The masculine shout pierced the tense air. Proxima screamed and jumped back as heavily armed men poured into the room. Rey’s heart nearly gave out from sheer relief as she recognized the uniforms of a SWAT team. She sank to her knees, hands up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snoke swore and sprinted for the back exit and the rolltop door. He aimed the gun over his shoulder as he went, the barrel pointing not at the armed officers, but at Rey. She screamed and scrambled back as he pulled the trigger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The loud pop was followed by a hail of gunfire that made Rey’s ears ring. She squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears, curling into a tight ball on the floor. Her heart was going to beat out of her chest. Boots pounded on the floor and men shouted, the sounds blurring together until Rey couldn’t tell what was happening. She stayed frozen, wondering if she’d been shot and didn’t know it yet, if right now she was bleeding out just as Snoke had promised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hand on her shoulder made her flinch. She opened her eyes and saw one of the SWAT members kneeling beside her. His mouth shaped words, but she couldn’t make sense of them through the buzzing in her head. He repeated them a few times, until Rey finally understood. “Are you hurt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t know. Her limbs were locked in place, and she didn’t think she could move to see if Snoke had shot her. Her eyes wandered, though, and she gasped at the sight of a group of men standing over Snoke’s body. Blood was spattered in violent red arcs over the rolltop door. Nearby, Proxima was crying as she was handcuffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you going to arrest me?” Rey asked in a small voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The report said you were here to get evidence against Snoke. Is that right?” When she nodded, he frowned at her. “That was stupid and reckless.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Rey croaked. “I get that now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tension holding her in place released a little, and Rey started shaking uncontrollably. “B-Ben,” she said. He was her anchor, the only thing she could think of. She wanted him here<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">—</span></span>the solid feel of his arms, the warmth of his skin, the deep, soothing tone of his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll get you to Mr. Solo,” the officer said. “But you need to move for me. We have to make sure you’re okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey slowly uncurled. Her hands were fisted so tightly, the nails left indentations in her skin. Bit by bit she stretched out until she was lying on her back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The officer checked her over, looking for wounds and checking her pulse. Rey felt faint. Had she lost blood? “Am I going to die?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” he said firmly. “I don’t see any injuries<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">. W</span></span>ere you hurt before this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snoke had missed. Relief poured through her. “No, she said. "But he was going to torture me. He said he would cut me up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not surprised.” The man helped her to a seated position. “What else did he say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey could feel a few hints of pain now<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">—</span></span>bruising on her knees, a dull ache in her side. Abruptly, she remembered the phone, which had been jammed into her ribs when she’d hit the ground. “I recorded it,” she said, reaching into the loose neckline of her shirt. She tugged it out, glad to see the screen hadn’t cracked. The video was still recording, though the battery was critically low. She hit Stop and handed it over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll need to keep this for evidence,” the man said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She swallowed hard. “I-I don’t have a laptop,” she said. “I need it to look for work.” It should have been the last thing on her mind, but Rey had never been able to afford a break from worrying about the future.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll be okay,” he said, standing up. He reached out his hand. “Now come on. We need to ask some more questions before you can see Mr. Solo.” When Rey’s gaze drifted back over to the gold-and-red lump in the corner that had once been Snoke, he moved to block her gaze. “Don’t think about that,” he said. “Think about what’s waiting for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ben,” she whispered again. Ben was waiting for her if she could get through this. She breathed in deeply, took the agent's hand, and let him pull her to her feet.<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>#</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Three hours later, Rey walked out of the interrogation room where she’d told an FBI agent everything she knew about Snoke<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">—</span></span>minus what Ben had told her about his own abuse. The agent had seemed to know everything, anyway, and he told Rey they’d been building a case against him for years. They’d just needed hard evidence of his drug trafficking, which Rey had provided with her video.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He says the police are in his pocket,” Rey had told the agent when the interview had started, wondering if this was about to go very badly for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They may be,” he’d said, “but the FBI aren’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t know how the FBI had known to raid the building tonight, but she was glad they had, even if she found it hard to trust anyone with a uniform and a gun. The world was intrinsically unfair, and too often the people tasked with protecting others ended up hurting them worst of all. But there was only one way out, so Rey had taken a deep breath and told her story.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now she was walking out a free woman, albeit one without a phone. She looked at the ugly, scuffed carpet under her feet, feeling oddly detached from her body. The adrenaline had faded, leaving behind gray exhaustion. Where would she go now? What would she do?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The question was resolved the moment she stepped into the lobby. Ben stood there, solid and clear, and everything else faded away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey burst into tears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Within seconds, she was wrapped in his arms and crushed against his chest. “Baby,” he said into her hair, rocking her back and forth. “Oh my God, I thought I’d lost you.” Rambling words poured out of him<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">—</span></span>she was so brave and strong, but he would never forgive her for doing such a reckless thing, he’d never be able to repay her for fighting for him, she’d scared the shit out of him, he would never let her out of his sight again. Rey soaked in the words, letting him vent his fear and joy while he held her like he was afraid she might fly away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He finally pulled back, though not for long<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">—</span></span>his hands came to her cheeks, and he tugged her in for a ferocious kiss. Rey melted into him, tasting their mingled tears. This was what everything had been for<span class="ILfuVd"><span class="hgKElc">—</span></span>his mouth working over hers, her hands tangled in his hair, their bodies sharing a duet of love and relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d spent her whole life wanting to belong with someone. Now she did.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I wish,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> she once told the neon-streaked night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey didn’t have to wish anymore.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>One more chapter to go!!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>Rey didn’t really process the drive to Ben’s house. The city flickered by, but she was only aware of it in bits and pieces. The rest of the time she was lost in her own head, reliving the last moments with Snoke. She’d tried so hard to be brave, but when the bullets had stopped flying, she’d fallen apart. Now she was left with the broken pieces and no idea how to put them together again.</p><p>The only way to survive the kind of life Rey had lived was to put bad memories in boxes and shove them away. The potential rapist she’d stabbed, the people who’d hurt her, the days she’d been so hungry she’d thought she might die… those were all packaged up in neat boxes, along with the emotions tied to them. Rey had learned to numb herself as a survival skill.</p><p>That numbness was settling in now. Her thoughts were jagged and disconnected. Her stomach churned, but her chest felt like it had been hollowed out. Her eyes saw without processing. The whole world felt gray, despite the neon lights outside the window.</p><p>Ben’s hand settled on her thigh, and Rey jumped. “Hey,” he said, that deep voice drawing her back into the moment. “Where’s your head at?”</p><p>Rey would have laughed at the impossible question, but she was too tired. She just made a soft, sad noise. “I don’t know.”</p><p>“It’s okay,” he said, his grip on her leg firming. His hand was warm and solid, a link to the real world. “We’re almost home.”</p><p>It wasn’t Rey’s home, but in that moment, it felt like it. There were no emotions associated with her small, shitty apartment other than desperation, but Ben’s house had been a place of refuge and warmth. The thought of his soft sheets made her want to cry.</p><p>She couldn’t cry, though. Her eyes hadn’t been cooperating since her meltdown upon first seeing Ben. She just stared and stared at the city slipping by.</p><p>She was only half-aware when they pulled into his driveway. Before Rey could stir from her stupor, Ben was opening her door and helping her out. When her legs wobbled, he scooped her up and carried her, ignoring her feeble protests.</p><p>Once inside, he brought her straight into the bathroom and set her down on the closed toilet. Rey blinked, wondering what he was doing, but then he turned on the bathtub faucet, holding his hand under the stream to check the temperature. Rey had never been able to afford an apartment with a tub—cramped shower stalls were her usual—but she had a feeling this tub was larger than most.</p><p>With the tub plugged and filling up, Ben knelt in front of her. “We’re going to have a bath,” he said, earnest brown eyes fixed on hers. “Nothing sexual, but I do want to cuddle you. Is that okay?”</p><p>Rey nodded, past words.</p><p>Ben stroked her hair. His expression was unbearably tender. “You’ve had a horrible night,” he said. “Let me take care of you. You don’t have to do or say anything.”</p><p>It wasn’t a question, but Rey nodded again anyway. Some tight knot inside her chest loosened. Ben was here, solid and strong. With him in charge, Rey didn’t need to think or worry about the future; she could just <em> be </em>.</p><p>Ben poured some concoction into the bath, and lavender-scented bubbles popped up. Rey watched, fascination peeking through the haze in her head. Bubble baths were things seen in movies, not real life. When Ben dimmed the lights and lit a few candles, the scene felt even more unreal.</p><p>Ben turned the faucet off, then crossed to Rey. “Let’s get these clothes off you.”</p><p>She was still in the slutty bartender outfit she’d worn two shifts in a row. She helped him tug the shirt off. If she could afford to, she would burn it so she never had to look at it again. Her tight jeans were next, then socks and underwear. She was conscious of her nudity, but her shyness couldn’t beat her emotional and physical exhaustion.</p><p>Ben guided her into the bath, and Rey hissed as the hot water hit her feet. It took a few minutes of dipping her toes in and out before she was ready to step in. Eventually, she settled back into the tub, groaning as the hot water enveloped her.</p><p>Ben shucked off his clothes, then stepped in as well. Rey sat up to give him room to move, but even though the tub was huge, it took some maneuvering to get him seated behind her with his legs bent on the outside of hers. She marveled at the side difference between them, not just height, but width. She’d never liked big men before—<em> big </em> had meant <em> dangerous— </em>but now Ben’s size made her feel safe. Delicate. Cherished.</p><p>Rey rested against his chest, muscles finally relaxing at the warmth and quiet. Ben didn’t say anything for a long time, just held her close. Eventually, the water, heat, and skin contact pulled Rey out of the gray fog that had been keeping her prisoner.</p><p>“Are you okay?” she whispered.</p><p>His arms tightened around her. “Why are you asking me that?”</p><p>“I don’t know.” She considered as she toyed with the bubbles with her toes, feeling guilty and grateful all at once. “Snoke’s dead, and…” She trailed off, realizing he might not know. “Shit, sorry, did they tell you?” She tried to turn to face him, but he held her tight in his arms.</p><p>“Yeah,” he said, voice rough. “They told me.”</p><p>“How do you feel?”</p><p>There was a pause while they both breathed in the humid air, chests rising and falling in tandem. “Good,” Ben said. “Complicated, but good. I wanted him to spend a fucking lifetime in jail, but honestly… I’m glad he’s dead. And I hope it hurt. Am I allowed to say that?”</p><p>“Of course.” Rey turned her head to nuzzle against his chest. “I’m glad he’s dead, but I would have ripped his fucking nuts off, given half the chance."</p><p>Ben’s soft chuckle vibrated against her. “I believe you.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Are you okay?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Rey said. “I just feel tired.”</p><p>“You’ve gone through a lot.” His voice roughened. “And I’m trying really hard not to chew you out for putting yourself in danger.”</p><p>Rey’s eyes prickled, and she sniffed, oddly glad she was on the verge of tears after all that gray. “I just wanted to give you something.”</p><p>If Ben squeezed her any tighter, her breathing would be at risk. “I told you,” he said. “You are all I need. Just you.”</p><p>“But—”</p><p>“No buts.” He kissed her head again, and the water swirled around them as he rocked her from side to side. “You’re the best person I know. The fiercest, toughest, most incredible woman in the entire universe.”</p><p>At that, Rey’s tears finally broke free. “I’m not,” she said through sobs. “I’m nowhere near as good as you.” She was just a street rat who made questionable choices, and if the FBI hadn’t shown up, she would have been dead right now.</p><p>“You’re better,” Ben said, rocking her back and forth as much as the tub and their position allowed. “And I won’t let you put yourself down, do you hear me?”</p><p>Rey couldn’t speak. Her entire body shuddered as she sobbed out her terror and gratitude. She’d gone through hell, but she was alive and in the arms of the man she loved.</p><p>She loved him.</p><p>Up until now, Rey’s experience of love had consisted solely of the primal, ferocious loyalty she felt to her friends. She would die for them, just as she’d come far too close to dying for Ben. She cared for them and wanted them to be safe and happy. But this…</p><p>This was like choking on sunshine. Like her chest was filled with cotton candy. But under the light and sweetness were darker, more intense urges and emotions: the exhilaration of standing at the edge of a precipitous drop, the nearly-feral drive to give Ben everything he needed, no matter what it cost. Her body didn’t seem large enough to contain this feeling.</p><p>Her tears seemed to unlock a door, and that love flooded her, pushing out the grief and fear. She squirmed in Ben’s arms, water slopping over the edge of the tub as she turned to face him. It was an awkward position, with no obvious solution for where her legs would go, but she propped herself up like a sea lion, neck craned so she could look up at his beloved face.</p><p>He looked softer than he ever had before, skin glistening with humidity, damp hair curling against his neck. Rey’s stomach flipped at the adoration in his eyes as he brushed her cheek with a pruned finger, wiping away a tear. “Doing all right?” he asked softly.</p><p>In response, Rey used his shoulders as leverage to wriggle closer to his face, sending more water cascading to the tile. She kissed him.</p><p>He made a low, desperate sound as he kissed her back. His lips were soft and a little wet from the steam, and Rey took her time exploring every millimeter of them, from the dip at the top to the plush curve of his lower lip. He was slightly stubbled, and the rasp against her skin made her shiver.</p><p>Eventually, though, her neck began to ache from the angle. She broke away, scooting back despite his protest. “Ben,” she said breathlessly as she knelt up in the tub.</p><p>His hands skated over her shoulders, then down to cup her breasts. He licked his lips, staring at her chest, and his eyes flicked up to hers. “Yes, Rey?”</p><p>“I want…” She trailed off as his hands dipped below the water, fingers tracing gentle patterns over her waist.</p><p>“What do you want?” Ben asked. His thumbs came to rest in the crease between her hips and thighs, just inches away from the edge of her public hair, while his long fingers stretched over her ass. <em> Big hands, </em> she thought deliriously. He squeezed, pressing indentations into her skin. He shifted in the tub until he could press his lips to her ear. “Come on,” he whispered, breath puffing hot against her skin. “You can tell me.”</p><p>A needy ache was building between Rey’s thighs. She clenched internally, imagining having him inside her. “I want you,” she said, lips brushing against the shell of his ear. “All of you.” A thought made her sit back. Ben's abuser had only just died; was he even ready to get intimate with her? “Unless it’s too soon?" she asked. "We can go as slow as you want—”</p><p>He silenced her with a kiss. “Rey,” he said when he pulled away, eyes flicking between hers. “The past has no place here. There’s only you and me, and there’s nothing I want more than to be with you.”</p><p>“Then,” she said, twining her fingers in his hair, “please take me to bed.”</p><p>He didn’t need to be asked twice. Ben surged upright, bracing himself against the tile as he helped Rey to her feet. Water sloshed everywhere as he picked her up, hands anchoring under her ass. She wrapped her legs around his waist, clinging tightly as he stepped out of the tub and hurried towards the bedroom.</p><p>“I’m sopping wet,” she said. “Do you want me to towel off?”</p><p>In response, Ben dumped her on the bed. She laughed as she bounced against the mattress, but the laugh quickly died as he crawled over her, a look of primal hunger on his face. “I’m not leaving your side for a second,” he said, settling between her spread legs. His lips quirked. “And besides, sopping wet is the goal.”</p><p>She giggled at the joke, and he stole the sound with his lips crashing against hers. This kiss was far less gentle—not an exploration, but a mutual claiming. Rey gasped as he bit her lower lip, and then his tongue was inside her mouth, stroking over hers. He lifted his hips briefly and adjusted himself, and when he pressed against her again, his cock was pinned between them. Rey ground against him, a messy echo of how she’d ridden him that morning.</p><p>He lifted onto his elbows to look at her. “Never put yourself in danger again,” he said as he thrust rhythmically against her. “Do you hear me?”</p><p>She could see the desperation in his eyes now, the worry and anger he’d hidden while caring for her. He ground against her hard, and pleasure sparked as his cock rubbed over her clit. Rey moaned and reached down to grip his ass, pulling him against her.</p><p>Ben dipped down to bite her neck, a sweet sting that made Rey gasp. “Rey,” he rumbled against her throat. “Never again, understand?”</p><p>Rey had never liked taking orders—ironic for someone in the service industry, but that was probably why she disliked it so much. But even though Ben was commanding her, it felt different. This order came from worry and care, not a desire to control. She met his fiery gaze, and a thrill went through her at the barely banked intensity in his eyes. “Never,” she agreed.</p><p>He rewarded her with a bruising kiss. Rey gave herself up to him completely, taking his passion and returning her own. Here with Ben, she was safe. She didn’t need to be in control. </p><p>Ben grew hungrier, wilder. Rey’s body shifted against the silken sheets as he thrust against her, every push of his hips tightening the knot of pleasure in her lower belly. He grabbed her hands and pinned them beside her head, holding her in place for kisses that moved from her lips to her neck. As he sucked bruises into her skin, Rey arched her back to drag her stiffened nipples over his chest.</p><p>The sheets were wet with bathwater, and Rey’s feet were getting tangled up in them as she writhed under Ben. He was overwhelming, that massive body moving over her, those full lips dragging paths of fire over her skin. He shifted his weight, moving down her body as he kissed a path towards one tight nipple. When he sucked it into his mouth, Rey jerked.</p><p>Ben’s fingers tightened on hers, keeping her pinned to the bed. “You’re mine,” he whispered against the curve of her breast. “And I’m yours.”</p><p>"Yes," she said.</p><p>Ben grunted, then dedicated himself to worshipping her breasts. He licked and nibbled, tasting each breast in turn. Rey bucked her hips, needing him lower. “Ben,” she said breathily.</p><p>“Hm?” He looked up, a lock of dark hair falling over his forehead. His tongue traced a circle around her nipple, and she shivered at the sight and sensation. “What do you want, sweetheart?” She strained against his hold on her hands, but he just chuckled and licked her again. “You can have whatever you want, Rey,” he said. “You just have to tell me.”</p><p>“Eat me out,” she said in a rush. Her cheeks burned. This wasn’t an act she’d indulged in often. The few times she’d tried with one-night stands, she’d quickly put an end to it, nerves and paranoia ensuring she’d never orgasm. But she’d fought a fantasy many times late at night, when she was alone and close to dreaming: a man pinning her down and forcing orgasms on her with his mouth, burning away her unease with pleasure. Ever since meeting Ben, that fantasy man had become clearer, and now the thought of those wide lips and long tongue working her into a frenzy made her cunt clench with want.</p><p>Ben smirked. “Gladly.” He released her hands. “Grab the pillow,” he said.</p><p>Rey gripped the pillow, biting her lip as Ben moved down the bed, trailing kisses over her ribs and stomach. He settled between her legs, his shoulders splitting her legs so wide the muscles on the insides of her thighs quivered. He looked like a conquering god, eyes burning as he stared at her cunt. His eyes flicked up, and there was a wicked promise written in his gaze and on the tilt of that luscious mouth. “Ready?” he asked.</p><p>Rey nodded. She clutched the pillow tightly, nervous in spite of herself.</p><p>“Gentle?” Ben asked. “Or rough?” His thumbs slid between her labia, splitting the lips and exposing her soaked center to his gaze.</p><p>“I-I don’t know,” Rey said. “I’ve never really…”</p><p>Ben looked surprised. “Never?”</p><p>She shook her head. “I tried, but it’s so… vulnerable.” Maybe that was a strange way to think about an act everyone else seemed to love, but Rey had never been able to let go of the need to protect herself.</p><p>Ben nodded. “I understand that. It’s hard, trusting someone enough to let them put their mouth on you.” His thumb traced up and back, picking up her slickness before circling her clit. “But there’s no need to be nervous. Not with me.”</p><p>Rey nodded, thighs trembling and eyes fixed on him.</p><p>“I think,” he said seriously, looking at her exposed pussy again, “the key is to show you exactly how much I want to do this.”</p><p>With those words, he covered her with his mouth. Rey yelped at the lewd, open-mouthed kiss as he dragged his tongue up her center. He followed up with an even hungrier lick. “Fuck,” he said. “You’re perfect.” Then he really dove in, feasting on her with frantic licks, sucks, and a few gentle bites.</p><p>Rey couldn’t speak. What he was doing with his mouth was <em> obscene. </em> His tongue was long and strong, and when he pressed it against her clit, she cried out in bliss. A few more kisses, and he was shoving the tip of his tongue <em> inside </em> her—something Rey had never known was possible. The shallow penetration made her mewl and buck against him.</p><p>He looped an arm over her lower belly. “Stay still,” he growled. Then his mouth was ravaging her again, wreaking havoc on Rey’s sanity. She bucked and whined as he charted every contour with his tongue, paying extra attention to her clit. He sucked her labia in turn, then ducked lower to trail his tongue over the pucker of her ass. Rey squirmed, mortified and aroused by the taboo touch. This was beyond anything she’d imagined, and already she could feel the tension building, signaling an oncoming orgasm.</p><p>Ben started licking firm circles around her clit as one of his fingers pushed inside her, and Rey gasped. “Yes,” she said, hands flying from the pillow to fist in his hair. She ground against him, groaning at every press of his tongue against her clit, every thrust of his finger inside her. He came back with two fingers, a delicious stretch that reminded Rey exactly how big his cock was. A fresh surge of wetness resulted from the thought of him splitting her wide. Her hips jerked, little pushes as she tried to get closer, then further away, then closer again to the overwhelming stimulation, but he kept her pinned.</p><p>She could tell when he decided to stop teasing her and really went in for the kill. He licked her clit mercilessly, never letting up the pressure. Meanwhile, his fingers worked her just as hard, surging inside her, then crooking as he dragged over her G-spot again and again. Rey’s feet slid over the covers as she writhed, and she squeezed her eyes shut at the sharpening pleasure. How could anything feel this good?</p><p>“Look at me,” he said.</p><p>Her eyes flew open. He was looking up at her, mouth buried between her legs, and the erotic sight was too much to handle. The orgasm broke over her in hot, spasming waves. Her abs clenched, lifting her partially off the bed, and she cried out as her cunt squeezed his fingers rhythmically.</p><p>He kept working her, taking everything she could give. When Rey finally collapsed back onto the sheets, spent and trembling, he kissed her one last time before pulling his fingers out. They glistened when he held them up for her to see. When he slid them into his mouth and sucked, Rey clenched around nothing.</p><p>“Holy shit,” she said, sounding dazed and loopy. Where had this sex god come from?</p><p>He grinned, that rare, boyish expression that carved dimples in his cheeks like parentheses around his full mouth. “Well, my ego certainly isn’t struggling right now.”</p><p>She giggled. “I feel like I could float away."</p><p>He stroked her side. “Endorphins are a powerful thing.”</p><p>“<em> You’re </em> a powerful thing,” Rey said vehemently. “Your fucking mouth…” She made a happy noise and wriggled in the sheets, not caring that they were still damp from the bath. “Seriously, how did you do that?”</p><p>“Enthusiasm goes a long way,” Ben said. He leaned over to kiss her stomach. “And I am very—” <em> kiss </em> “enthusiastic—” <em> kiss </em> “about making you come.” He moved up to her breast, mouthing at the underside before sucking her nipple.</p><p>Rey struggled to a sitting position. “No more of that,” she said, grabbing his shoulders and manhandling him until he was lying on his back next to her. “It’s my turn.”</p><p>“That’s why I was trying to—” Ben broke off with a gasp as Rey lowered her head to nibble at his hip bone. She traced his muscles with her tongue, feeling triumphant when his abs clenched and released. His hips rocked slightly, making his erection bob.</p><p>She’d seen it before, but not up close. Rey rested her head on his abdomen, studying his cock as she trailed her fingers over it. This thick, flushed column would be inside her soon, and she couldn’t wait. As she stroked gently up and down, a drop of precum emerged, glistening at the tip.</p><p>Ben was breathing hard, and his hands were fisted in the sheets at his sides like he was preventing himself from grabbing her. Feeling  devilish, she cupped his balls lightly, then blew on his erection.</p><p>“Rey,” he said in a strangled tone.</p><p>She looked at him, batting her eyes innocently. “Yes, Ben?”</p><p>He groaned. “Nothing, it’s nothing.”</p><p>“Are you sure?” Rey asked, trailing her fingers up to the tip of his cock. “You’re such a good man, Ben. You deserve to feel good.” She dabbed at the precum, then brought her finger to her mouth, licking up the bitter-salty drop.</p><p>He made a desperate sound. “You’re going to kill me.”</p><p>She angled herself so she was straddling one of his thighs facing him, her mouth hovering over his erection. “You can have whatever you want,” she said, parroting his words earlier. “You just have to tell me.”</p><p>His eyes were wide as he stared down at her, and his pale, muscular chest heaved. She could tell he was struggling to say what he wanted. Ben Solo was too used to giving, not taking.</p><p>“Come on,” she cooed. “Let me show you how good you are.”</p><p>He shuddered. “Please put your mouth on me,” he said in a rush.</p><p>Rey needed more than that. She wanted to break down his restraint and turn him into the raw animal she’d glimpsed while he’d been eating her out. She pressed her lips to his upper thigh. “Here?” she asked, looking up at him through her lashes.</p><p>He cursed, then chuckled. “No, not there.”</p><p>She moved to nibble at one of the muscles that arrowed towards his groin. “Here?”</p><p>His hips shifted, and the tip of his cock brushed against her cheek. “You know what I want,” he said in a low, guttural voice.</p><p>“I do,” she said, kissing lower. “But you give so much of yourself to the world, Ben. You’re a generous man when it comes to other people, but you don’t know how to take what you want for yourself.”</p><p>“Shit.” His abs tightened, and his cock bobbed against her face again. Rey turned to nuzzle it, pressing a kiss to a prominent vein. That earned her a strangled noise that made her smile. “Stop teasing me,” Ben ordered. Contrary to the commanding words, his fingers were gentle when he tucked a stray hair behind her ear.</p><p>She smiled up at him, mouthing at his cock again. “Gladly,” she said. “Once you tell me what you want.”</p><p>His cheeks were flushed, his eyes dark and intense. He looked like he was on the verge of snapping, and Rey felt a thrill at the thought. She wanted him undone, as much of a wreck as she was.</p><p>Finally, he fisted his hand in her hair and tugged. “Suck my cock,” he ordered.</p><p>Rey shivered. “Yes,” she said. Then she opened her mouth around him and started sinking down. He stretched her lips wide, and as his dick filled her mouth and pressed back towards her throat, Rey felt an intense, primal joy at being able to give him this. She held him as deep as she could for a few seconds, then sucked as she drew her head back up. When she swirled her tongue near the tip, Ben made a soft sound of pleasure.</p><p>Rey set an easy, deep rhythm, working him slowly. Ben swore and twitched with each pass of her mouth, abs rippling as his fingers flexed in her hair. Spit pooled, easing the slide, and soon Rey was bobbing her head up and down more quickly, her hand wrapped around the base of his cock as she jerked him in time with her movements. She ground against his thigh, keeping herself on the edge as she pleasured him.</p><p>Ben groaned, thrusting up into her mouth. “Fuck,” he said. “Feels so fucking… <em>unh.”</em></p><p>Rey kept going, twisting her hand lightly on the upstroke, then sucking the crown hard. He grew even thicker, his erection like steel under silk. When she dabbed her tongue at the taut line of his frenulum, he jackknifed up.</p><p>“No more,” he panted, pressing gently at her forehead. She gave one last strong suck before releasing him. She held the wet tip of his cock against her cheek, smiling up at him. He looked wrecked, his hair mussed and cheeks flushed as he panted for breath.</p><p>“What do you want now?” she asked.</p><p>“What do you want?” he asked in return, cupping her cheek.</p><p>There was no reason to dance around this any longer. Rey had wasted too much time when it came to Ben, and as fun as it was to tease, she had a deeper need now. “I want you to make love to me,” she said softly. The words felt delicate and strange leaving her tongue; she’d never called sex ‘making love’ in her life.</p><p>Ben groaned. “Me, too.” He helped settle her on her back with the pillow beneath her head. Then he reached for his nightstand and fished out a chain of unopened condoms. “Um, I bought them today,” he said as he ripped one off. He looked bashful. “I don’t do this a lot, and I didn’t want to presume, but…”</p><p>“I’m glad you did.” Rey spread her legs and held out her arms. “Now come here.”</p><p>Ben rolled the condom on and settled on top of her. Rey hitched her knees up around his hips, then reached down to guide him into place. “Now,” she said, looking up at Ben with utter trust.</p><p>He started pushing in, eyes locked on hers. The way he filled her was slow and overwhelming, an act that could only be termed<em> claiming. </em> She clung to his shoulders, mouth open and breath hitching with each inch. Finally, his hips were flush against hers. Ben stayed there without moving, looking down at her tenderly. “All right?” he asked. “I know I’m big.”</p><p>She would have rolled her eyes, but it was clear he wasn’t bragging, just genuinely concerned. And, truthfully, it had been a long time. She breathed deeply and focused on relaxing into the slightly-painful stretch.</p><p>Ben shifted to move his hand between them and started rubbing her clit. Rey sucked in a breath at the considerate—and sexy—gesture. “Are you for real?” she asked.</p><p>His forehead furrowed. “What do you mean?”</p><p>“You care about my orgasm.” She was too far gone to censor herself, his touch and the pressure of his cock inside her all she could focus on.</p><p>Ben pressed her clit harder. “Of course I do.”</p><p>She laughed, sounding giddy. “Ben Solo, you ridiculously sexy gentleman. Please make love to me.”</p><p>His lips curved up. “As you wish.” He pulled out slowly and thrust back in, still rubbing her clit. He was clearly trying to be gentle, but Rey didn’t need that. She was dripping wet, any discomfort long gone. She hooked her ankles behind his waist and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, dragging him close. “More,” she ordered. “Harder.”</p><p>He obliged with a grunt, intensifying his thrusts, but the hand between them was limiting how thoroughly he could take her. Rey grabbed his hand and brought it up to rest on the pillow. “Clit later,” she gasped. “Fuck me hard now.”</p><p>“Christ,” he said, hips jerking. He kissed her, then set a deep, fast rhythm, giving her exactly what she needed. The rolling motion of his ass under her heels was sinful, and he punctuated every stroke with a sharp thrust. Rey moaned at the deep penetration. The headboard smacked against the wall, and each thrust slid her up his fancy bedsheets. She was finally having sex with Ben, and it was beyond anything she’d imagined.</p><p>He filled her up, surrounded her, <em> possessed </em> her. Rey felt small beneath him, but she felt powerful, too. He was sweating and panting and looking at her like she was everything to him. That massive, muscled body was laboring for her pleasure.</p><p>Rey met each thrust with a roll of her hips. Slick, lewd sounds filled the air, mixed with grunts, gasps, and murmured endearments. She sucked his neck, reveling in the salty taste of his sweat.</p><p>“Rey,” he said on a hard thrust that made her gasp. “I need to make you come.” The desperate tone in his voice told Rey he was close and, like the blessedly filthy gentleman he was, wanted her to get off first.</p><p>“Roll over,” she said.</p><p>Ben pulled out and flopped onto his back, reaching for her. Rey felt empty without him, but it wouldn’t be for long. She straddled him, then grabbed his cock, notched it in place, and sank down on him. They let out matching groans as she seated herself fully. She grabbed the headboard and started riding him. “Clit now,” she gasped.</p><p>Ben obliged, licking his thumb before pressing it to her clit just above where he penetrated her. Rey whimpered as he circled it roughly. “Yes,” she said, bouncing up and down faster. The sharp, squirmy pleasure he was building at her clit was echoed by a deeper, fuller ache inside. When she leaned back slightly, she gasped as his cock hit some sensitive spot high on her inner wall. When she pressed her hand to her abdomen, she could swear she felt him under the skin, a hard, thick presence filling her over and over.</p><p>The tendons in Ben’s neck stood out, and his muscles strained with tension. “Come on, baby,” he said through gritted teeth. “Let go.”</p><p>Her movements grew jerky as the orgasm snuck up on her. She clung to the headboard again, struggling to maintain her rhythm. Thankfully, Ben took over, one massive hand guiding her hips as he thrust up into her, the other hand still dedicated to her clit.</p><p>Rey’s feet cramped, and she saw sparks as the tension in her body finally released. Shivering, clenching, nigh-unbearable bliss tore through her, and her body pulsed around Ben’s cock like a heartbeat. She cried out and collapsed on top of him, shivering through the aftershocks.</p><p>Ben swore and wrapped her in his arms, holding her tight to his chest as he hammered up into her. His thrusts were hard and jagged, and he was making desperate, hungry sounds that sounded more animal than human. Rey reveled in the primal joy of making him lose control. Ben Solo was finally taking exactly what he wanted, and she was glad to give it.</p><p>“Fuck!” He thrust up once more and held, body shaking. He gasped a few times, and then his grip on Rey relaxed as his head dropped back to the pillow.</p><p>Rey didn’t want to lose the feeling of him inside her, so she stayed still, cheek pressed to his chest. Each of his deep, ragged breaths lifted her, her weight no match for the breadth and power of his chest. Ben stroked her back, drawing unknown designs into her skin. Rey nestled into him, nosing at his firm pectoral, lifting a hand to rake clumsily through his damp hair. He smelled like sweat and soap and his own unique scent—something musky, rich, and captivating.</p><p>Rey had never felt this happy. It was almost painful, the way joy swelled behind her breastbone. She wanted to cry and shout and sing all at once. “I love you,” she whispered into his chest.</p><p>He stiffened. “What did you just say?”</p><p><em> Shit. </em>Rey looked up at him, eyes wide with panic. “Nothing,” she squeaked.</p><p>He cupped her cheek. “Rey,” he said, voice as soft as the look in his eyes. “Tell me.”</p><p>He didn’t seem upset, and Rey had already said it, so fuck it, she could be brave. With his cock still softening inside her, she pillowed her chin on her hands and looked at him earnestly. “I love you,” she repeated. “And maybe it’s way too soon to say it, but the way you make me feel… I’ve never felt anything like it before.”</p><p>His lips parted. “You love me?” he whispered.</p><p>Rey nodded, chin digging into her fingers. “I do,” she said. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. “So much.”</p><p>Ben moved quickly, grabbing her and rolling them over until she was on her back beneath him. His cock slipped out of her body, but Rey couldn’t mind; not when he was caging her in with his forearms, some desperate and wild expression illuminating his face. His rapid breaths warmed her lips. “I love you,” he said. “So much.”</p><p>Rey lifted her head and kissed him as fireworks exploded in her chest. No one had ever loved her like that. Yet here she was after years of loneliness with the best man in the world kissing her back, having finally found a person that felt like that elusive concept: <em> home. </em></p><p>When the kiss ended, they grinned at each other like co-conspirators in some wild, exciting plot. Then Rey’s stomach grumbled loudly, and they both burst into laughter. “Come on,” Ben said, rubbing his nose against hers. “Let me cook you a midnight meal.”</p><p>Rey was reluctant to let him go, but her stomach rumbled again. She usually had a small snack after work, but suddenly she was ravenous. A symptom of the earlier stress, maybe, or possibly a result of their epic sex session.</p><p>Ben got up and put on pajama bottoms, then handed Rey the black T-shirt that went with it. “I like seeing you in my clothes,” he said as she shoved her arms through the sleeves. The hem fell to mid-thigh.</p><p>Rey eyed his bare torso and the expanse of muscle. “I like seeing you out of your clothes,” she said.</p><p>Ben laughed and tugged her in for a kiss. “I love you,” he murmured against her mouth. It sounded like he’d been saying those words to her forever. Like they were the kind of gooey couple who told each other they loved each other all the time.</p><p>They could be that couple. </p><p>“I love you, too,” Rey said. Then she swatted his ass. “Now get in the kitchen.”</p><p>He laughed. “Yes, ma’am.”</p><p>Rey padded after him. As she watched him pull out pans and ingredients, she thought about everything that had brought them here. The night had been a haze of adrenaline and trauma, then a storm of passion, and her mind was only now starting to clear. There were missing pieces in tonight’s story, she realized.</p><p>“Why did the FBI come?” she asked.</p><p>Ben stilled in the process of assembling a line of vegetables on the cutting board.</p><p>“Sorry,” Rey said, realizing he probably didn’t want to talk about Snoke. “We don’t have to talk about it. I was just remembering—”</p><p>“No, let’s talk about it.” Ben set the knife down, then leaned back against the counter. “It was all because of your friend, Rose.”</p><p>Rey clapped a hand to her mouth. “Really?”</p><p>“Really. She got my number somehow and called me in a rage, ranting about how I was risking your life for a stupid story.” He narrowed his eyes at Rey. “I had no idea what she was talking about, of course.”</p><p>Rey ducked her head in contrition. “Sorry,” she said, looking up at him through her lashes. “You must have been worried.”</p><p>“Sweetheart, you have no idea.” He held out his arms, and Rey rushed into them. He rested his chin on the top of her head as he kept telling the story. “What you didn’t know was that the FBI had been investigating Snoke for a while. I gave them whatever information I came across, but they were still assembling a case. But when Rose told me what you were up to, I called them immediately.”</p><p>“So it wasn’t just Rose,” Rey murmured into Ben’s chest. “It was you, too. You both saved me.”</p><p>His arms tightened around her. “I just wish I could have been there to shoot the bastard myself. I tried, but they wouldn’t let me near the operation.”</p><p>“I wish <em> I’d </em> shot the bastard,” Rey grumbled.</p><p>Ben huffed into her hair. “My feral love.”</p><p>She drew back enough to look up at him. “How do you feel?” she asked. “You said you were okay earlier, but that was when I was still freaked out, so maybe you were just pretending for me?”</p><p>He chewed his lips, seeming to consider his words, and Rey took in every inch of his dear face. The long, slightly crooked jaw, the moles spattered across his pale skin, the bold nose and adorably large ears. His eyes were her favorite of all, though. Hooded and intense, they were capable of saying so many things.</p><p>Right now he looked contemplative, not upset. “It was a shock,” he finally said. “But mostly because I was afraid for you. I was terrified that Snoke would take this good, wonderful person and just… destroy you, the way he’s destroyed so many other people.”</p><p>“He didn’t,” Rey said, smoothing the crease in Ben's forehead with her thumb.</p><p>“But he could have,” Ben said. “And I wouldn’t have been able to bear it. Justice for Snoke would never have been worth the cost of your life.”</p><p>Her breath hitched at the words. “Ben,” she said, struggling not to cry, “that man tormented you for years. You’ve only known me for a few weeks.”</p><p>“There’s no ‘only’ about it,” he said. “I know you. No matter how long or short the time, that’s priceless.”</p><p>“Okay, that’s ridiculously sweet.” Rey was going to start blubbering if he kept saying things like that. She cupped his face, stroking her fingers over his stubble. “Take me out of the equation, though,” she said. “How do you feel about Snoke dying?”</p><p>“That’s the thing,” Ben said. “Maybe I should feel robbed of a trial, or maybe this should be churning up old trauma—and hell, maybe it will in a few days—but right now I just feel relieved.” His chest expanded as he inhaled. He blew it out through pursed lips, closing his eyes. “Hear that?” he asked. “That’s the sound of a man taking his first deep breath in a long time.”</p><p>“I’m glad.” Rey rested her head against his chest again. “Glad that you’re relieved. Glad that he’s dead.” She kissed the skin over his heart. “It’s just you and me now.”</p><p>“You and me,” he repeated, kissing the top of her head.</p><p>They stood like that for a long time, wrapped around each other and breathing in the new, fresh air of possibility. The future beckoned; the past receded.</p><p>Finally, Ben stirred. “Let me cook dinner,” he said. “Is there anyone you want to talk to?”</p><p>“Rose,” Rey said. Her head popped up as a horrible thought hit her. “Does she even know I’m alive?”</p><p>“Yes,” Ben said. “I called her while you were talking to the FBI.” He huffed and shook his head. “She’s still not my biggest fan.”</p><p>“She’s five-foot-two of pure Mama Bear, but she’ll come around.” Rey winced when she remembered that the FBI had her phone. “Shoot. Can I use your phone?”</p><p>Ben dug his cell phone out of his discarded pants in the bathroom, then unlocked it and handed it to her. She grinned at the contact name Ben had saved Rose under: ‘Very Angry Rose.’ As Ben started puttering in the kitchen again, Rey took the phone outside. The concrete walkway was cool beneath her bare toes. She dialed Rose, looking up at where the moon peeked through the clouds. The bottoms of the clouds were frosted orange; even here at the base of the foothills, it was impossible to get away from the glow of the city.</p><p>“You’d better tell me she’s safe and sound or I will hunt you down.” Rose’s voice burst out of the speaker, so loud that Rey jerked the phone away from her ear.</p><p>“Rose, it’s me!" she said. "I’m okay.”</p><p>“Oh my God!” Loud sobs came over the phone, and Rey started crying, too. “I was so worried,” Rose said through tears. “I couldn’t lose you.” There was an unspoken <em> too </em> there, and Rey felt guilty knowing her friend, who was already facing so much loss, had had to face this, too.</p><p>“I’m so sorry.” Rey sniffled and wiped at her eyes. “It was a stupid plan, I get that, but Snoke’s dead now. Everything’s okay.”</p><p>“Excuse you,” Rose snapped, “everything is not okay. My best friend nearly died tonight.”</p><p>“But you saved me,” Rey said. “You’re the reason I’m here right now.”</p><p>“Only because your rich bitch apparently owns the FBI,” Rose said. “Where is he, anyway? I need to warn him he’s dating a lunatic.”</p><p>Rey bit her lip and smiled. “He’s here. Or rather, I’m there. At his place.”</p><p>Rose made a rude noise. “Is he fucking grateful you were willing to risk your life for his stupid newspaper?”</p><p>“It wasn’t for the newspaper,” Rey said. “It was for him. And yes, he’s grateful I wanted to stand up for him, but he also made me promise never to do anything like that again.”</p><p>“Good,” Rose said. “He gets a point for that.”</p><p>“He has you saved in his phone as ‘Very Angry Rose,’” Rey said. She trailed her finger over the stiffened leaves of some desert plant in Ben’s yard. “You must have given him hell.”</p><p>“Well, yeah,” Rose said, “since he was the reason my best friend trotted off to a mafia don’s lair on some stupid spy mission.” She sniffed. “I guess he gets another point for being intimidated by me.”</p><p>“He’s the best man in the world,” Rey said. “I want you to meet him.”</p><p>“You really like him, don’t you?”</p><p>Rey’s cheeks hurt from smiling. “I love him. And he loves me.”</p><p>“You<em> love </em> him?” Rose shrieked. “Bitch, you only told me you were dating a few hours ago. You are <em> not </em> allowed to fall in love until he’s been thoroughly vetted by me, Finn, and Poe.”</p><p>“Too late,” Rey said. An appetizing aroma wafted through the air, and she sniffed appreciatively. “He’s cooking me dinner, so I should probably go back in. But Rose… I love you. Thank you for saving me.”</p><p>“I love you, too, you beautiful disaster.” Rose sighed into the phone. “Please never put yourself in danger again, Rey. Life’s too short as it is.”</p><p>“I won’t.” Rey swallowed past the lump in her throat. “All this time I thought of myself as disposable. But I’m not.”</p><p>“You’re not,” Rose agreed. “And we need to have a serious heart-to-heart soon.”</p><p>“Deal.” When Rose yawned, Rey smiled. “Go back to sleep. Thank you for everything.”</p><p>“All right,” Rose grumbled. “Love you.”</p><p>“Love you, too.”</p><p>Rey hung up, then took a moment to lean against Ben’s red front door and stare up at the sky. She’d never looked for stars before, since the city’s glow was strong even in the dead of night. But as she squinted, she could make out a few glimmers here and there. Still shining, undaunted by the human haze below.</p><p>Just like Ben, she thought. Shining bright despite everything.</p><p>She turned the knob and went back into the house. The smells and sounds of cooking assailed her—the sizzle of oil in a skillet, the rich scent of garlic and onion. “What are you making?” she asked as she entered the kitchen.</p><p>He grinned over his shoulder at her. “Spaghetti bolognese with homemade noodles.”</p><p>She blinked at him. “It’s 2am. I was expecting a grilled cheese or something. You <em>made</em> noodles?”</p><p>“I made them previously.” He waved a giant spoon at the fridge. “I like to make big batches, then freeze them.”</p><p>Of course he did. Rey hopped onto her seat at the kitchen island, then watched in fascination as Ben chopped, poured, and stirred. A pot of water started boiling near his elbow, and he dumped pasta into it. Then he covered the saucepan that contained the meat, vegetables, and sauce and reduced the temperature. “We have a few minutes,” he said, turning away from the stove. When Rey’s gaze lasered in on his crotch, he laughed. “Not enough minutes for that, unfortunately.” He held up a finger. “Wait here.” He left the room.</p><p>Rey waited, listening to the soft bubbling coming from the stove. She breathed in deeply and closed her eyes, wondering if she would ever get used to eating food like this. A small, insecure voice in her head whispered that it wouldn’t last, that no one ever stayed, but she told it to shut the fuck up. She’d been given a shot at a beautiful life, and Rey was going to seize it with both hands and never let go.</p><p>Ben touched her shoulder, and she jumped, eyes flying open.</p><p>“Sorry,” he said, looking contrite. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”</p><p>She smiled and grabbed his hand. “You didn’t,” she said. “I was just thinking.”</p><p>“About what?” He leaned an elbow on the counter, giving her his full attention. His fingers played with hers, and he drew her hand up to kiss the back of it.</p><p>“All my life, I’ve believed something like this was impossible,” Rey said. Her lips trembled. She wasn’t sure she would ever be able to fully articulate how bleak her life had been before Ben. He had flipped her world upside down, rattling loose all the hopes she’d been too scared to indulge. “But it is possible.”</p><p>“It is,” he agreed. “But I never believed in it, either. Life hasn’t always been kind to us.”</p><p>Rey squeezed his fingers. “That’s an understatement.” She could see the marks life had left on him: some fine lines, a smattering of white hairs in the midst of those gorgeous raven locks, a certain melancholy depth to his eyes in moments like this. They both had scars, but Rey wasn’t afraid of anything he might show her. “We’ll just have to be kind to each other, then,” she said.</p><p>A grin bloomed on Ben’s austere face, bright enough to light up the room. “I have something for you,” he said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a narrow cardboard box. “I was going to give it to you as an anniversary present, but I figured now is as good a time as any.” He held it out. “Sorry it’s not wrapped.”</p><p>He was already planning for their anniversary? Rey’s heart beat faster as she accepted the box. She wasn’t well-versed in gift-giving, but she knew at least one thing. “But I don’t have anything for you,” she said, feeling excited and guilty all at once.</p><p>Ben kissed her hand again. “How many times do I need to tell you that you are the greatest gift of all?”</p><p>Rey shook her head. “Flatterer.” But her fingers trembled as she lifted the lid of the box. Inside, resting on a black faux-velvet surface, was a necklace. The chain was silver, so fine that when she lifted it, it poured through her fingers like liquid. A small charm hung at the end, and Rey held it up to the light. A silver heart surrounded the curving, inlaid green stems of two flowers. Two white blossoms hung down like bells in the center of the heart, their petals touching.</p><p>“It’s beautiful,” Rey whispered. “I’ve never had a necklace before.”</p><p>Ben’s mouth worked. “Here,” he said. “Let me put it on you.”</p><p>She watched as he fumbled with it, giggling when he cursed big fingers and tiny clasps. Finally, he released the catch. He stepped behind her to drape the necklace around her neck. Rey touched the small pendant as he secured the chain. The heart came to rest over her sternum, a small, cool pressure that was already warming with the heat of her skin.</p><p>“I’m never taking it off,” Rey announced. Under the surface, though, part of her was already trying to calculate the value of the gift. What had he spent, and what would she owe him in exchange? Though the thought of losing it was devastating, was the necklace valuable enough to pawn so she could pay rent?</p><p>She tried to reframe her thoughts. That had been her reality before. It wasn’t her reality now.</p><p><em> What would you get out of it? </em>she’d asked him about their relationship yesterday.</p><p>
  <em> You.</em>
</p><p>Rey took a deep, cleansing breath, the way Ben had earlier. She knew he would be there with anything she needed, whether it was food, money, support… or a necklace she’d never have dared buy herself. Maybe she could go to college for automotive engineering, find a better job than at Plutt’s. Maybe she could just rest in his bed, taking days and weeks to learn how to live without fear. And in return, she would buoy him, comfort him, tease him, <em> love </em> him. She’d give him her entire heart.</p><p>Their future was a blank canvas waiting for the brush.</p><p>“Thank you,” she said, eyes burning again. She pressed her knuckles into them, trying not to cry. “It isn’t easy for me to accept gifts. It sounds too much like charity, you know?”</p><p>Ben nodded. “I know. But it isn’t charity. It’s me telling you I love you in a different way.”</p><p>“I know,” she said. “And this necklace means so much to me because of that.” She smiled at him through the haze of unshed tears. “And I plan to tell you I love you in every way I can, for as long as I can.”</p><p>He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “There’s a story behind that necklace. It isn’t just any flower.”</p><p>“No?” Rey wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him between her thighs where she sat on the stool. “What is it?”</p><p>“<em>Galanthus nivalis.</em>” When Rey stared at him blankly, Ben clarified. “The snowdrop. It’s the earliest-blooming flower, blossoming starting in January.”</p><p>“Huh.” Rey wasn’t sure where he was going with this. “Well, it’s very pretty.”</p><p>Ben toyed with the pendant at her chest, though his eyes were fixed on hers. “Snowdrops look delicate," he said, "but they can survive the most brutal conditions. When they poke through the snow… it’s a sign that spring is on its way.”</p><p>Rey covered his fingers with hers, the two of them holding the snowdrop pendant together. “So it’s resilient,” she said.</p><p>Ben nodded. “Resilient and beautiful. It takes a rare flower to bloom in adversity.”</p><p>And oh, the message of the gift was clear now. Rey’s heart swelled, and she dove at him, nearly falling off her stool as she peppered his chest and neck with kisses, then tipped her head up to reach his jaw. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”</p><p>He laughed and kissed her back, lips pressing against her forehead, her temple, her nose, wherever he could reach. “You’re my snowdrop,” he said. “You inspire me.”</p><p>She’d thought of Ben as a star in the night sky over Coruscant, shining even when clouds or pollution obscured that light. But this… this was a far better metaphor. He had burst out of the snow of his trauma and blossomed, tough and beautiful in ways that most people would never understand. “You’re my snowdrop,” she whispered back.</p><p>Then there were no more words. Their mouths worked in hot, joyful tandem, many kisses interrupted by a smile. The timer rang, but neither Rey nor Ben moved. It was only a few minutes later that Ben finally dragged his lips from hers. “Shit,” he said. “The pasta.”</p><p>“I’d rather have you than pasta,” Rey said. Her stomach instantly betrayed her with another loud rumble.</p><p>Ben guffawed. “How about this,” he said. “You eat some unfortunately overcooked pasta, and then we either sleep or have sex. And if we decide to sleep, we have sex in the morning.”</p><p>Rey kissed him again. “What if we eat pasta, have sex, sleep, and then also have sex in the morning?”</p><p>“Excellent proposition.” Ben rested his forehead against hers. “You make me so happy,” he said. “I love you.”</p><p>A year ago, Rey could never have imagined this moment. Now, though, she couldn’t imagine a moment without Ben. “I love you, too,” she whispered.</p><p>As they kissed again, Rey’s fingers stroked the contours of the heart pendant. They were two snowdrops planted side by side, bursting through the snow. A brilliant spring awaited.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you all so much for sticking with me through writer's block, societal chaos, and everything else that stopped me from finishing this story. Your words have brought me joy, and I hope this story brings you joy, as well. Trauma leaves its mark on all of us... but we can create our own loves and hopes to combat it.</p><p>I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments. Let's all be kinder to ourselves in 2021, okay?</p><p>Here's Rey's necklace &lt;3</p><p> </p><p>  </p><p> </p><p> </p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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